


Frenemies With Benefits (and Secret Identities)

by eebee



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Frenemies, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eebee/pseuds/eebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry's desperate, and desperation will make you do stupid things -- like agree to bone Cold on the regular, no strings attached.  It's a great idea, shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: In which Barry and Len agree to be Frenemies With Benefits, and Barry cannot be sorry about it

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first ColdFlash fic-- I'm pretty excited, you guys seem like a happy fun little ship. I have this plotted entirely to be about 9 or so chapters. 
> 
> I've reviewed this chapter a few times, but it is unbeta'd. If anybody would like to volunteer, feel free to leave me a comment, or hit me up on my [ tumblr](http://sabrielplz.tumblr.com), or if you see an obvious typo I missed, you can drop that in the comments too, and I'll fix it.

****

Chapter 1: In which Barry and Len agree to be Frenemies With Benefits, and Barry cannot be sorry about it 

It's been a fairly quiet night at Saints & Sinners, which of course should have been his first clue that something was bound to go sideways. He was halfway through his beer, and had already finished most of his plate of bangers and mash, when the door opens, and Barry Allen walks in. 

Except, this isn't the Barry that chased him around trying to find out about Lewis Snart, in a rumbled cardigan under a canvas black jacket and jeans. This Barry Allen is wearing black distressed skinny jeans tucked into black high-top Converse, and a leather jacket with a scarf tucked into it, and he looks absolutely edible. The look seems calculated, and that in itself is fascinating, because what is Barry Allen up to? 

A moment later, Barry has thrown himself into the seat across from him, hands in his jacket pockets, staring at him. "Allen."

"Len."

The kid is staring at him like he's trying to decide something, and Len just gives up and turns his attention back to his beer, and then signals for a round, since apparently Barry is waiting for some damned thing, and apparently Len is going to let him. 

Vi brings two fresh pints by a few minutes later, and Barry thanks her with his usual guileless smile, and then drinks it down in one go. It's remarkable, and sort of horrifying at the same time. He sighs, and then blinks a few times, before sighing. "I drink, because it's the polite thing to do sometimes, but that buzz lasted about two seconds," he says with a heavy sigh, which would absolutely suck, but Len isn't given time to think about it, because Barry has taken his other hand out of his pocket and slaps a scrap of paper down on the tabletop.

"What's this?" Len asks, leaning forward. All that's on it is an address for an apartment not far from the city center.

"It's my address."

Len's brain spun through reasons before he leaned back in the booth, and gave the kid a look, "You looking to collect on some insurance money after I clear out your place?"

The idiot just chuckles, and then leans forward and drains the rest of his beer as well. "You aren't going to rob me. But you are going to show up at that address tomorrow around eight."

"Really? Am I being remanded to custody?"

Barry just shakes his head, "No," is all he says, like he isn't going to answer why he's supposed to show up, which is apparently exactly the case, since the kid rolls out of the bench seat, and heads to the bar. He comes back a minute later with two more, and glances at the nearest empty pool table. "A quick game?"

What the hell, it's already been one of the weirdest evenings ever, and certainly the weirdest he's ever had at Saints, so he gets up, nodding at Vi, who is hovering nearby, concerned. He waves her off, and she grins like she knows something, but if she knows what the hell Barry Allen is up to he wishes she'd tell him, because he's lost in the fucking woods. "No speeding."

Barry laughs, and grabs a cue from the wall. "Promise. Rack 'em?"

Once he's finished, and he sets the triangle aside, Barry hands him the beer he'd gotten from the bar. "You wanna break?"

"Sure thing, kid."

The beer is good, a little better than what he'd ordered before, probably, and Barry takes his time drinking this one between shots. It's a decent game, Barry's no pro, but he's decent enough. Len wins, of course, but Barry's a sport about it. Barry goes to put his cue away, and then leans back against the table, half sitting on the edge, leaning back on one arm. "So, you'll show?"

"Might do."

Barry shrugs, and gives that self-deprecating amused smile, and stands up, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. "I'll take it. Night, man," and he wanders out, like he isn't a cop in a dive bar full of thieves and worse. It's a damn shame he left, but it'd been nice to watch him leave, because damn his ass in those pants anyway.

"Somebody's got an admirer. How'd you land a hot young thing like that, Lenny Snart?" Vi asks, coming to stand next to him, bumping his arm. Vi runs Saints, and she's been doing it like a pro for years. She's a beautiful woman, the color of cocoa, and pretty brown eyes. She reminds him of his mother, though he'd never say, and she doesn't take shit from anybody - and everybody respects her for it. 

"He's a badge, Vi. "

"It ain't called Saints and Sinners to keep the cops away, love. And that boy was looking to get some sinner in him, in case you didn't notice. Damn shame, a man like you could use a little loving up, it seems to me."

Len shook his head. "Not with him. There's complicated, and then there's Barry Allen."

She just shakes her head, "Yeah, and sometimes complicated just means worth it. That boy is adorable, Leonard."

And Barry Allen is attractive, but - he's also a righteous do-gooder, which definitely has its pitfalls. Pitfalls Len is pretty sure he doesn't want to get tangled in.

* * *

The next day Len argues with himself all day about actually showing up, but he finds himself taking the angriest shower of his life at six thirty, and staring at his closet like he's personally offended, which is how Lisa finds him.

"What are you doing, Lenny?" she asks, sitting on the edge of his bed, her voice full of amusement.

"I don't know," he says slowly, honestly.

"O-kay. You want to answer that again?"

"This guy I know showed up at Saints last night."

"And?"

"And - we had drinks, and played pool, and told me to show up to his apartment. He gave me the address."

"When?"

"Eight-ish were the exact instructions I believe."

Lisa snerks, "I bet that made you insane." 

Len shrugs, "I suppose, if it doesn't matter, it's an accurate enough time. Certainly unacceptable for our line of work, but - no matter. What is not acceptable is that I have no idea what I'm doing."

Lisa nods, "In that case, you need this-" she says, approaching the closet. She grabs a grey button up, and shoves it at him. "Put this on." She also pulls out a pair of black trousers. "This is pretty all purpose. It's nice enough to go out in, and blend in, but casual enough to stay in if you untuck."

"Fine. Good enough, get out of here." He tugs the shirt on over the white tank top he'd at least managed to select, and when he's finished, he'll admit he looks acceptable, after he finishes rolling up his sleeves. 

The trip to the apartment only takes fifteen minutes on his bike, and he changes from his boots to a pair of nicer dress shoes, in the parking lot. When he gets to the second floor, he's passed on the stairs by Barry himself, speeding past, and Len shakes his head, and continues up the remaining two flights. When he gets to the fourth floor Barry is standing in the doorway, grinning. He's wearing one of the cardigans, over a button up, and jeans, and his feet are bare. "Barry."

"Len. Come on in," he says, ushering him inside, and locking the door behind him. 

"So, Barry, are you going to tell me why I'm here?"

Barry stutters, "What?"

"An address does not an explanation make."

"Right. Well, you are perhaps not wrong about that. So, I will skip the rest, maybe to return later. I'm not entirely sure how it escaped your notice, but this was at least meant to be a hookup."

And Leonard just nods, letting that echo in his mind for a few seconds, before rubbing his hands over his face, and then nodding. "And, you thought that might be a good idea, because -"

And then something strange happened, because Barry has always put up a good front of being proud, and bold, and self-assured, and then like removing a cloak, it was gone, and all that was left was - something else. Something a little sad, and anxious, and slightly hungry looking. "Look, if you're not at all interested, just go. But, the truth is, the more people I tell who I am, the bigger the risk that I get caught. I don't want to live publicly as The Flash. I like being just me when I get home. And, dating is like- impossible. I'm dashing out mid-date, and quite honestly it makes it hard to concentrate like that, and they can always tell that I'm splitting my attention."

"Compelling." It's spat out like he doesn't care, but in truth he's more than a little intrigued. Not by Barry's dating woes, he could give a single fuck about that, but by the fact that Barry wants to have no strings attached sex. The man is a beanpole, but he's also fit under that burgundy leather monstrosity, and there's something that's sexually appealing about having the Flash beg him for it. 

"But- you already know. There won't be excuses to make, or lies. And, sometimes when you look at me, I can tell you're at least somewhat attracted to me. And, I mean - you're you know, clearly- " he gestured to Len, with a shrug, "and, maybe more important, I sometimes lose a little bit of control in the - excitement? And, maybe vibrate slightly, and sometimes tiny static shocks. They don't really hurt- I've been told, but they're actually visible, so. Hard to explain."

"And?"

"And I haven't gotten laid in three years. I mean fair enough, I was in a coma for nine of those months, but still. And, I'm horny as fuck, and you're hot. It doesn't have to be complicated."

An offer to be friends with benefits had definitely not been on Len's short list of possibilities for the evening's events. "And you can do that - sleep with a man you'd just as soon put behind bars?"

Barry nods, "Yeah. And, honestly, having the Captain controlling some of the chaos isn't a bad thing."

Interesting. "I see. And what do I get out of this - arrangement?"

Barry frowns at him, like it's terribly confusing question before shrugging, and stuffing his hands in his pockets, and then answering, "Orgasms, I suppose," with a frustrated air.

Len grinned, and stalked across the living room, pushing into Barry's personal space. "I should think so, but maybe I want more than that."

"I'm pretty sure that's all that's on the table. I'm not negotiating for anything but this. This - " he said, gesturing between them, "has nothing to do with the game outside."

Fair enough, it wasn't a lasting plan, but he doesn't expect anything here to last. "You realize this is - the worst plan I've ever heard, and you trapped people in tiny boxes for months."

"Because, you aren't interested.. ?"

And Len stalks forward, from where he's standing near the door, and slides his hands on either side of the boy's pretty face, "Because this is going to turn into a disaster. Professionally, personally, in every way."

And Len doesn't want to feel anything when the boy just gave a halfhearted shrug, and answers quietly, "I don't care," with an air of sadness that wasn't there the last time he'd said those words to him across the table at Saints. "I know it's a bad idea, I know it might be wrong, but I need this, and I think I can trust you with it. With me."

And gods fucking dammit if that wasn't hot, and Len keeps a hand cradled against Barry's jaw, and drops one to the man's side, as he backs the man up against the wall before tipping his chin up slightly and kissing him hard. "Rules?"

"Don't tickle me, don't rush, and don't participate if you're not interested."

Len nods- all very fair. "All good rules."

"You?"

"Don't hit me, don't call me by my last name, and don't expect to not work for it."

Barry grins at him because somehow that's got his attention. "Deal."

It's a horrible no good idea, and it's going to end badly, Len just knows it. The kid will grow some feelings or something, or they'll meet on the outside, and he'll be Cold and Barry will be Flash, and it will be the epitome of awkward to be walked to jail by his fuck buddy, but he can't seem to stop himself either. Barry's pupils are blown wide, and Len can feel his cock pressing against his hip hard and warm, and delicious feeling. The kid smells like really good cologne, and something that's probably just Barry's own scent that is making Len's mouth water. 

The cave comes all at once, a downrush of a wave crashing over him, and he slides his other hand down and around Barry's hips, and lifts him slightly, slams Barry back against the wall again, hard enough to bother his neighbors, but Barry seems to love it because he's gotten with the program beautifully and has his legs around Len's hips in a tight grip, and angles in for a kiss, that Len is more than happy to indulge in, pinning him against the wall, and stroking a hand up under the guy's stupid frumpy cardigan, to find smooth warm skin over hard muscle. 

"Fuck. Fuck, Len, don't tease me."

Len grins, against Barry's mouth, and pulls back slightly, to make eye contact. "It's not teasing if I'm going to make good. I fully intend on taking you apart, and making you beg to come. Make no mistake, I'm not leaving here until you're a puddle of exhausted, fucked out, satisfaction."

"Best idea ever," is all that he manages to get out, before Len pulls him back into a searing kiss. Barry's working at Len's belt, and it's time for a scene change, and Len takes a second to swat his hands away, and step back. 

"Bed. Where?" is all he says, and Barry grins, and tugs his shirt off over his head- the cardigan and the button up underneath it, and grabs Len's hand, and tugs him through the living room, and down a short hallway, and into a bedroom. The room is fairly sparse, with actual boxes still packed into corners, but the bed is king sized, and covered in a thick dark grey comforter that Barry tugs off in a single go, revealing light grey sheets before turning around and returning to unbuttoning Len's shirt. The shirt is half off when Barry stops, and Len grins. "Like what you see?"

He knows how the tattoos look, he keeps them pretty well covered, the cops don't need any help identifying him, but he hadn't been able to resist the idea when it struck. They'd cost a fortune, and he'd gone all the way to Metropolis to have them done by the very best. His back, shoulders, and two half sleeves of fractal patterns taken from actual frost that the artist had managed to blend beautifully. They're all done in blue and white ink, and Barry's eyes are flitting around taking it in, before answering in a stunned voice, "Wow! These are - amazing. Like, this is like -- art."

"Great, you can stare later. Take your pants off, Scarlet." 

Len shrugs out of the sleeves, and lets them all on the floor, along with his pants, and tugs his tank over his shoulders, pulling his socks off quickly, before looking back up, and Barry is gloriously, beautifully naked. He takes a step forward, and pushes back into Barry's space, and Barry melts against him, skin to skin, from knees to chest, and fuck it's been so damn long, because he doesn't remember ever being so turned on by just the feel of his partner's naked body. He mouths kisses along Barry's neck, and shoves him back into the bed, and crawls on top, pressing Barry into the bed, and resumes his path, along Barry's neck, collar bone, the slight hollow in his chest. Barry has a smattering of dark freckles that cut a pattern across his skin, that Len is happy to follow, before he finds himself inches from Barry's cock. It's decently long, and thick, and eager, but Len's not inclined to letting Barry get off that easily. "Flip."

"Oh fuck. Yes!" Barry says, quickly turning over, but he'd taken a quick moment to look back, and Len gave him a textbook Cold smirk, because this boy is going to beg, and it's going to be a thing of beauty. He pushes and pulls Barry exactly the way he wants him, before licking a single long stripe over Barry's sack, to his hole. Barry whimpers, and Len turns his entire attention to the different sounds that he can elicit just with his tongue. 

"You like that, Barry?" he asks, its times like this he loves the drawl the most. He knows exactly how it sounds, spent years perfecting it, but in the bedroom it isn't that condescending sprawl of words, it sounds carelessly confident, like he has all day to get the answer and isn't in any rush to come. 

Barry moans, and that was probably supposed to be an answer, but he's not letting him off the hook with just that, and he gives Barry's ass a squeeze, and asks again, and Barry's hand fists in the sheets, and he shifts, like that will encourage Len to get back to business, before he growls, and then whines, "Fuck, feels so good."

Which means Len is done, because Len is definitely going to make good on his promise, but he's also a shit, and that means he wants to frustrate the hell out of him first. He leans back on his heels, and let's open palms slide over soft hot skin, over his back, gentle but firm presses of just the pads of his fingers, tracing lines over his body, and he can see that Barry's both feeling the pleasant relaxation sink into his skin, but also the anticipation of when he's going to stop, and do - something. Anything. Touch him with purpose, somewhere that's just - waiting to be touched. 

Len's surprised, but thrilled when he sees Barry's fingers start to shake. Realizing that that's what he'd meant when he mentioned control, Len realizes how turned on he is, and he runs his hand down the length of Barry's spine, and cups his ass. "You have supplies, I assume."

And Barry whimpers, and shifts up, and tugs open the side table, and digs out a bottle, and a box of condoms. Len steals both out of his hands, and crawls closer, threading their legs together, and pulling him close, and Barry is kissing his neck, and shoulders, before burying his face in Len's neck, and inhaling deeply, a long slightly shaky pull of air, before looking straight at him. "Don't rush."

Len wonders if that's been a problem before, or if it's just that it's been a while, but Len understands rules, even if he sometimes only knows them so he can figure out how to break them. "I won't," he promises, and Barry nods, apparently satisfied. 

The lube is cold but of good quality, and Len takes his sweet time, stretching his lover open on his fingers, until Barry is whimpering, and thrusting back against three of his fingers. He's definitely ready, and Len slides a hand down stroking along Barry's sack, and down the length of his cock, and Barry lets out a shout. "Fuck, Len. Please." 

He strokes down and up again, residual lube on his hand easing the way, and he feels the tremor in Barry's body, and he groans, because that will feel amazing when he's inside him, he's certain of it. "You're good?"

"So good. Please."

"Please what?" Len asks, slowly drawing his fingers from Barry's body, and shifting into a better position. 

And Len would give anything to see Barry's face, but the rush of a blush is visible on the back of his neck, and Len waits for a long moment, before Barry groans, even as Len shifts up, and the head of his cock is just barely pressing against his entrance. "Oh god, please, put it in me, Len. Please. Fuck."

The tight hot crush of Barry's body is intense, and Len has to stop for a moment to keep from coming, but Barry seems to appreciate the pause, as the tension in his shoulder blades eases, and Len pushes in and out in a series of shallow thrusts, to let him adjust, and its only a few moments before Barry is thrusting back against him, jarring their bodies together. It takes a few tries, but Len finds the spot, and Barry barks out, "Oh, fuck. There," and groans when Len thrusts in again in exactly where he wants him. 

It's not a race, but it escalates quickly, and it's a struggle to not come first, especially when Barry's body is prone to delightful shivers that Len can feel, and when Barry comes with a shout, after a litany of whimpers, and prayers, Len follows him over in a few short thrusts, and they collapse in a pile of sated limbs, tired muscle, and sweat. 

It's silent for a time, Len taking a few to catch his breath, and let his heart rate return to normal, before Barry rolls over, and grins at him. "God, that was the best idea, ever."

And the kid isn't even remotely winded. "It seems I didn't wear you out."

Barry chuckled. "Yeah, I can run six hundred miles to Starling in an hour. Don't take it personally, that was awesome."

"Mm." Len can't disagree, ten out of ten, would fuck again. "The old man in the room is going to need a minute to recover."

Barry grins, "Not that I care, but out of curiosity, how old are you?" 

Len frowns, because surely the moron at least read a few of his files before he deleted them, but he answers anyway, summoning the energy to move, and reach down to remove the condom, and tie it off. "Thirty seven."

Barry shrugs, "That's fine. Not against the rules or anything."

"Rules?" The law is pretty clear - eighteen, but Allen is at least twenty five - minimum. 

"Yeah, you know, divide by two and add seven, and that's the youngest you should go, until you get to eighteen. So, twenty-five and a half."

"And you are?"

"Twenty six."

"I do so love to skirt the rules."

Barry chuckled, and then grimaced, "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

Len nods, and tosses the condom into the bedside trash, and collapses back into the pillows, feeling that pleasant post-orgasm sleepiness creeping in, and deciding that if Barry Allen would let him fuck him, he could take a snooze. 

When he rouses, the room is dim, but Barry isn't in the bed. He rolls out, and tugs his clothes back on, and heads into the living room. Barry is sitting on the couch , watching something on the screen that Len doesn't recognize. "Hey."

"You're up! I let you sleep. Old men need their rest."

Len sighs, "Don't start calling me that now, or I'll go back to calling you kid, which will add a very weird element to our little game." The look of disgust that crossed Allen's face was priceless, and he chalked it up as a victory. "I should head out."

"Uh - okay. So," and Barry is literally fidgeting, and then he shakes himself all over, and why is the kid still naked? "Number exchange. We should - do that. For - you know- purposes of -"

"I get it. And we will never - ever- call them booty calls. Ever, that's a rule."

Barry grins over at him, clearly amused, "Cool."

Len programs Allen's number into his phone, and then lets Barry do the same. When he looks over the guy's shoulder he sees his number has been programmed in as Booty Call. Asshole.

He tugs his boots on, and laces them, watching Barry watch him, still naked. Barry follows him to the door, and holds the knob. "Thank you."

And Len refuses to see, and looks away from everything in the other man's eyes. "Don't mention it."

And Barry just grins, and releases the knob, and lets the door open slightly. "I won't. Be careful, don't get hurt, don't get caught."

"Don't say shit like that when I'm leaving, or I'll just take you right back to bed."

"Oh - feel free.."

Len decides to err on the side of caution, and slips through the door before turning back around, "See you around, Scarlet."


	2. In which Barry and Len Hook up A Lot and Weirdly Nothing Bad Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Barry and Len Hook up A Lot and Weirdly Nothing Bad Happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you to everyone that left kudos, and comments, I treasured every single one - you'd think it was an Oscar or something. Seriously, this fandom is so awesome!!
> 
> I have gone over this a few times, but if you see a typo, or something horrible that needs fixing, drop it in a comment and I can fix it. 
> 
> Moving on - these boys. I love them both so much. I haven't had quite so much fun writing in a while -- I hope you enjoy! Let me know!

The next time they get together, Barry shows up at Saints, windswept, and bright eyed. "Len."

"Barry." 

"I just figured I'd drop in, and see if you were interested in fucking like bunnies all night," he asks, casually leaning against the bar, as if the fact that he might be overheard hadn't crossed his mind. And for a moment Len wants to worry for the kid's safety, but Len was going to say yes, which would put him off limits to all comers, as he'd be seen as Cold's piece of ass, and there was no reason to worry the guy pointlessly. 

"All night?"

"Until three AM at least."

It's currently nine, and that's a ridiculous amount of foreplay, or a ridiculous amount of sex at his age, but Len didn't have any better plans, and certainly no options as tempting. "What the hell," he says, and stands. "But not at yours. That's probably a bad idea."

"Okay," and he gets that guileless grin on his face, and Len can feel his eyes follow him, as he closes out his tab, and they go. They're affable friends on the street, chatting about Cisco, and movies until Len leads him into one of the nicer safe houses - number six, and then Barry turns into an octopus, all hands, and arms, and lips. They tumble into the bed, still in their underwear, even if the rest of their clothes are tracked through the living room, and probably on the stairs, and in the hallway. 

The sex is amazing, and he accidentally calls the guy babe. He makes a mental note to cut that shit out immediately. He also passes on post-coital snuggles, and even though Barry looks a tiny bit put out, he also just grins, and smacks Len on the ass, on his way out the door, with a cheeky, "Thanks, babe. Text me."

Len sighs once again angry with the universe that the guy that's supposed to be his arch-nemesis is so damned attractive.

* * *

Len gets a text one evening at Lisa's. She's been trying to learn to cook better, and thus is subjecting him to her experiments. Some of them have been okay, and he's not sure what's inspired this interest, but she seems happy, so he shows up for dinner, and tries whatever she puts in front of him. She's done pretty well, honestly, even if he isn't a big fan of some of it. It was all edible, which was something of a surprise of its own.

Tonight's meal is a fairly nice steak with some kind of fancy butter she'd bought, and she'd made some sort of slice potato thing, he wasn't paying attention to the names, but it was actually pretty tasty. "Not bad, sis." He ignores the phone when it chimes a second time a few minutes later. 

She smiles back, all dimples. "Thanks. You gonna check your phone?"

"After. I'm sure it's nothing important." Probably. He'd set a special tone for Barry, hopefully he wasn't using it for Flash business. It seemed unlikely.

"Lenny - if its Mick, or Hartley-"

"It's not." And then her eyebrow raises, and he realizes he's said too much. "Don't worry about it."

Lisa grins, and he knows he's in for an argument now, and he's tempted to just get up and leave and see what Barry wanted, because at least whatever hijinx Barry had in mind would be better than the interrogation he could see Lisa thinking about. "A special ring tone? Calling you at nine? You wanna tell me about it, Big Brother?"

"No, I really don't, Lis," Len grinds out, much too harshly, and her look of playful interest turns into something slightly wary, and he wants to slam his head into the table, because fuck Lewis Snart for drilling that reaction into them. 

Lisa frowns, "Okay. "

He sighs, "It's just - it's nothing, just - sex. It doesn't mean anything."

Lisa folds her arms in front of her on the table, and gives him a hard look. She's been doing this since they were kids, looking for his reassuring lies, and when they are for her, and when they are for him. He hates that she's astute enough to manage that, sometimes, but they're also an advantage since she can usually tell before Len when Mick's surly attitude is likely to turn into rage. Today she just grins, and flips her hair out of her face, and says, "If you say so."

"I do."

She clears the table, and they're going to turn on some movie she wants him to see when the phone goes again. 

"Just answer it, Lenny."

The first text says:

BA [21:28]: Busy tonight?  
BA [21:48]: Text back you're ok, and we'll talk when you're less busy. Don't get caught!

Len shakes his his head, and texts back. 

To BA [21:57]: My sister made dinner. Sorry. Not busy later, going to watch a movie now. 

BA [22:03] Aww, beautiful sibling bonding time. Enjoy your movie. Text me a place if you want to get together, or show up at mine, or don't. 

To BA [22:05] Did you have something in mind?

BA [22:06]: Blowies, Ice Cream and tunes. 

To BA [22:06]: Interesting. I look forward to your playlist. Be there in 2.5 hours. 

BA [22:07]: See you.

When he looks back up Lisa is grinning, "What?"

"I know that face. That's the boyfriend face. I haven't seen it much, but I know what it looks like. Get out of my house. Get laid, or don't, but get out. I can't deal with that face, and that tone all night."

Len wants to argue, to tell her that he's going to stay and watch whatever horrible movie she's picked out, but he's not going to, because he's already lost in thoughts of how good Barry's going to taste with the sweet of ice cream lingering in his mouth when he kisses him. "Fine."

She grins, "Fine. Call me tomorrow. Shawna wants to set up a meeting."

He nods, "Deal." He texts Barry from the front stairs that he's leaving now instead, and Barry texts back immediately with a picture of his dick in his hand. That bastard started without him. He's in trouble now. 

The door opens even before he knocks, and he's dragged inside, and Barry is already gloriously naked. "Straight down to business then."

Barry grins, "What other business could there possibly be? Race you to the bedroom. First one in bed, gets to come first."

Len sighs, what a bastard, and lets Barry speed off, and strips out of his clothes, because some things, take time to do right, and it's going to take twenty nine seconds to strip, and fourteen seconds to get to the bedroom, and he plans on taking at least five extra seconds to appreciate the sights when he gets there, because this isn't going to last - but he's going to enjoy every second of it while it does.

* * *

Barry knows, logically, that this going to end in fists, or jail terms, or tears, he just doesn't know which - maybe some combination of all three. The thing is, right now, it's good. It's - so - so good, that he just doesn't care. It's fairly regular uncomplicated sex. He doesn't have to worry about how Len feels about it, because he doesn't feel anything about it. They're in it for fun, and for orgasms, and maybe a little bit to see how hard they can push each other and get away with it.

He'd done a bit of reading when he'd first had the idea - and everyone said the best thing he can do for himself is to keep his options open - and he was. If he found someone he was interested in taking out on a date - he was definitely going to. They were also, it seemed, abiding by the somewhat unspoken rules that seemed to be common to all Friends With Benefits arrangements that precluded feelings, and complications- sort of.

Their real-life interactions had enough complications, that it was almost a relief to have a space where it wasn't complicated. Which, Barry knew was dangerous. Very dangerous, creating a space like that, which was what he wanted so very badly, could if he wasn't careful lead to very dangerous water, where feeling comfortable and safe in the relationship could create feelings. 

He knows all these things, and he texts Len anyway. Because nothing has gone wrong yet, so maybe it - won't. 

To Booty Call [20:13] Busy?

Booty Call [20:15] Just watching the hockey game. You're welcome to join me.

To Booty Call [20:17] Uhm, no dates, remember.

Booty Call [20:18] Who said anything about a date. There's no roses, or meals, or wine here. You show up, you can ride my cock while I watch the game. That's the offer, take it or leave it.

To Booty Call [20:19] Deal. Address?

Booty Call [20:22] Safehouse #5.

To Booty Call [20:22] Be there in a few.

When Barry gets to the safe house, he knocks, and he gets a text.

Booty Call [20:26] It's open. Lock it behind you.

Barry lets himself in, doing as instructed, and wandering though the house - it's a bare essentials place - some are nicer than others. Barry's fairly certain that Len has a place that is his own, but that no one goes there but himself, but for now they've been dropping into a variety of safehouses, and Barry's own apartment for hookups, and he's pretty cool with it. 

Len is in the living room, on the couch watching the game. A quick glance tells Barry that the Red Wings are playing the Leafs, and that Len is laid out on a beat up leather couch, in a pair of really soft looking plaid patterned pants, and nothing else. His feet are propped up on the arm of the couch, and Barry's never really noticed before, but they're kind of sexy in a way. His tattoos are on full display, and the front of those soft pants are tented - clearly interested in the promised events. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Good game?" Len gives him a look, and Barry assumes he's missed something. "What? I don't follow hockey, really."

"Why am I not surprised? Second greatest game on the planet."

"Second?"

"Baseball."

Barry nods, pursing his lips, and nodding at the same time, like he's thinking it over, but he's really more busy trying to figure out a segue to fucking that isn't super awkward, when Len just rolls his eyes at him, and reaches down and drags his pants down to his knees in a single lift of his hips, and Barry came over for a fuck but his mouth is literally watering at the thought of putting that in his mouth. "Damn."

"Pardon?"

"It's just - I need that in my mouth - like - now."

Len just grinned, and tucked his hands behind his head, "I won't stop you."

Barry kneels beside the couch, before gesturing for Len to shift, who obliges with a leer, and Barry runs a hand over his thigh, after pulling the pants all the way off, and setting them aside. "Just - you can touch my hair, and pull and tug, or whatever, but don't push me down, okay?"

Len just nods. "Noted."

Len smells amazing, musky, but clean, and his cock feels great in his hand, warm, and firm, and soft. Len lets him take his time, and go at his own pace, and seems to enjoy it anyway, if the sounds Barry is able to get out him are any indication. He also enjoys practicing his fine motor control, by managing to vibrate his vocal cords while moaning around Len's cock, and that had gone over oh -- so well. 

"Mother fucker! What did you just-" and Barry did it again, and Len had let his head drop back against the soft cushion, and moaned, and damn Barry hadn't thought that he could get any harder, but he was pretty sure he just did. He'd made this gorgeous man make that sound, and that felt so - satisfying. 

"Kinda cool, huh?" he asks, pulling off Len's cock with a grin, thumbing the spit on his bottom lip with a thumb. Super speed was the handiest of all skills, and it was funny how occasionally it kicked on, when he felt like he was standing still, because he could visibly see Len's pupils dilate, and the sharp inhale. 

"It's positively sinful, Scarlet. Do it again."

Barry grins, and obliges, before pulling off, and deciding that that was more than enough for tonight, because he still needs to come. Pulling his jeans off, and sitting down on Len's lap, he lines their cocks up in his hand, and strokes them both, before Len knocks his hands away, grabbing a packet of lube that Barry hadn't seen off the end table, and pouring it over his hands, and taking over. Barry moans, because he's gotten plenty of hand jobs before, from girls, from guys at college, and maybe it was just circumstances, but this was - so much better. "Faster."

"No," Len answers, sounding more like Cold than Len, and Barry looks up, and Len uses his free hand to tug him in and cover his mouth with his own. "You had your turn. This is my turn," and he strokes them both together in a large hand. 

It's over before Len wants, Barry is certain, but he doesn't seem to be complaining, leaning back against the cushions, and swiping at the puddles of their come smeared on his stomach, and chest, with his pants. 

"All right?"

"Better than," Barry says, smiling. 

"All right then, it's time for you to learn something. Hockey. Are you ready?"

Barry nods, as Len shifts horizontally on the couch, tucking Barry against him, completely uncaring that they're both naked, and draping an arm over Barry's waist, idly playing with the soft hairs around his navel. 

"Excellent. The face-off-"

Barry may drowse a little listening to Len wax a bit romantic about power-plays, but it's somewhat interesting, and definitely comfortable, and who could fault him for that, when everything feels so nice?

* * * 

When Barry wakes in the morning, he is ravenously hungry, slightly sticky, a little sore from sleeping on a couch, and there is a note on his chest.

_Morning sex. Interested? Top floor, third door on the right. -L_

Barry looks over at the clock, and he has an hour and a half before he has to be at work. How long could it possibly take - yeah, he's got the time, and he zips up the stairs, and into the bedroom, to find Len spread out in blue sheets and absolutely naked, and Barry doesn't even try and stop himself, he climbs in, and mouths wet open kisses along Len's exposed spine, and neck, before he's flipped, and pinned to the bed. 

"Glad to see my decision to let you stay paid off."

"Oh, it will."

And it does. Oh it does.

* * *

"Cisco! I need direction, man!" Barry says quietly, he's outside the small bodega that's being held up, and he's hoping that a security feed will give him a safe entry vector.

"There's a back entrance - it might be locked, but -"

"Locks I can handle. You got a security feed?"

"Yeah, there's two of them - one has a gun, the other just has a knife out."

"Got it."  
Barry busts in from the back, and promptly has the two fairly inept robbers tied up, and the shop-owner is thanking him, and he just grins, "No problem, ma'am. The CCPD are on their way."

"You hungry, young man?" the woman asks, all shy smiles, and she's held up a finger, and Barry hates to be impolite, and waits even though he needs to hoof it before the cops arrive. 

When she gets back, she has a plastic ziploc tub, that she pushes into his hands. "Running is hungry business. Thank you."

"Any time," and he speeds out of there. When he stops for a moment on the edge of mid-town and the docks, he's surprised to find that the sweet woman has packed him four amazing smelling char sui bao buns, and he devours them in moments. "Guys, that lady makes some amazing pork buns. Whew, I could seriously have eaten like a hundred of them."

"No share? We worked hard-" Cisco says, with his faux complaining inflection on, before Caitlyn interrupts. 

"He needs calories, Cisco. Don't complain. Besides, he can bring us all back take out."

Barry grins, "Oh, I am so down- maybe sushi too-"

"Dude!"

"What? Is it another robbery?"

"No man. You got a text, and I didn't mean to read it, it just popped up on the screen. But I am not sorry I did. Because, Booty Call, whoever that lovely lady is, would like to know if you're busy. I'm gonna say no."

"Cisco - I am busy."

"A girl has texted you basically just for sex, and you want to run around chasing down dime store robbers and pick pockets? Let the cops handle it. That's what they get paid to do. Damn" Cisco says, and there's a pause before he says, "This girl is HOT! She dropped everything to go see you when you offered ice cream and music for a blowjob?  
Sometimes I hate you."

Barry chuckles, walking along the street looking for a trashcan to drop the box into, "No you don't."

"No I don't," Cisco agrees, sighing. 

"And stop reading my texts. Wasn't there a dick pic in there?" he asks, the thought popping out of his mouth before he thinks better of asking. 

"Hey man, I wasn't gonna say anything, but since you brought it up, congrats I guess. But seriously, Barry, take a night off. Go get laid."

Barry isn't really considering it, this is firmly in the bad idea category and definitely could be seen as the arrangement interfering with his normal life, but Caitlyn interrupts Cisco's babbling with, "Barry, have a little bit of a life. I know you enjoy this, but - a little bit of companionship is a good thing. You know, a life - like we talked about?"

"Fine!" Barry says, "Text back: Be at mine in 45 minutes."

"For-tee-fiiive minutes," Cisco says allowed, clearly at the speed he typed it back. 

Which is when Barry snatches it out of Cisco's hands, grinning at him from the other side of the cortex. "Thanks Cisco."

"No problem, man. Seriously - have some fun. Be safe."

He gets back to his apartment with time to spare, after a quick change, and speeds through tidying up his place slightly, and stuffing some dirty dishes into the dishwasher, before he hears the knock on the door. He tugs it open, and Len's standing there, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Barry's eyes drop to his shirt, and gods fucking dammit. He's wearing tight black jeans, not his usual tac pants, and a t-shirt with the Flash logo on it, under his leather jacket, and a smirk, leaning against the door frame, like he didn't wear that just to see what Barry would do. "Thoughts?"

"You're wearing my - That's so hot. Why is that so hot? Get in here. Fuck-- take your pants off, take your pants off."

"Uh - hey, buddy. We're shutting the comms off, but you know, do yourself a favor and take your comm out when you get a second."

Barry tries to subtly drop it on the table, on the way to the bedroom, even as he is still tugging the belt off Len's jeans. "Sorry, just realized I left it in."

"Is it on?"

"No? I'm off duty," which is entirely true, obviously. 

"Good," Len drawls, sliding his hands beneath Barry's shirt. "So, I had a thought the other day."

"Wow," Barry says, shooting Len a smirk. 

"Shut up," Len returns, but he's not actually even annoyed, Barry can see it in his face. He's .. preoccupied by whatever this thought is. "I was thinking, that perhaps it's my turn to do a bit of riding."

Barry's eyebrows do an admirable job of trying to find his hairline. "Seriously?"

"No. I just thought I'd say it," Len says, clearly slightly annoyed, stepping away, a few feet.

"Sorry! I mean, I didn't mean to imply anything. Did I imply anything? It' s just that you .. don't strike me as very -"

"Take it or leave it, Scarlet."

Barry frowns, unsure what to do. Different people have vastly different opinions about penetrative sex, some love it, some don't, and every shade of gray in between. The thing was, he'd never gotten the impression that Len was anything other than wholly enthusiastic about what they had gotten up to together, in and out of bed, but there is something about his demeanor that doesn't seem right. "What are my three rules?"

"No tickling, no rushing, and no participation in the game if you aren't into it anymore."

Barry frowns, "Well, yes, but what I really meant was -- there's no obligation here to do anything you don't want to do - if you don't want to do it. And if that's something you really want to do, I'm so down, but you just seem very - on edge about it."

"Try growing up being called a 'good for nothing pansy' for years, and see if you don't come out the other end a little fucked up about it. But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

"You know that's not true, right? The things that Lewis said to you," Barry asks, taking a step closer to his lover, and then another, his fingers sliding into the belt loops of Len's pants. 

Len makes a somewhat non-committal noise of agreement, and leans in, and presses wet kisses against the column of Barry's throat. "Don't make me say it again. Don't make me beg."

Barry knows they're skirting lines here, that if this was a real relationship this would be a massive hurdle, a moment of trust, but he's not sure what to measure it against in the current context. The point of their game is to have fun, uncomplicated, hot as hell sex - where did this moment fit in? He didn't know, but he also knew that sometimes its hardest to ask for things you want the most. "I won't. Come on," Barry says, jerking his head in the direction of the bedroom. 

They strip each other fairly quickly, and Barry pushes Len backwards into the bed, and climbs in after him, tangling their legs together, and grinning against Len's lips, when they crash against his. It's so hot, they're rutting against each other, and, Len is pressing him into the mattress, and smirking. "Time to put up, or shut up, I think."

Barry snerks, "Oh, I'll give it to you, babe."

"Damned well better."

Barry shimmies out from under Len, to dig into his bedside table. "Let me up," and Len does, even as Barry grabs a pillow, and crams it under Len's hips. "You cool?"

Len just hmms, and Barry opens the bottle to spill out enough lubricant onto his hand and fingers before moving to press against Len's hole. Barry grins, when he hears Len's quiet exhale at initial contact, and the slow measured breath in and out, as Barry circles it in a few tight circles before pressing in with a single digit. 

He'd expected to have to go slower, but Len seems to be enjoying himself, letting go, and giving in to what his body wants, pushing back against Barry's fingers, and throaty moans, whenever Barry presses against his prostate. 

Barry shifts up, off his heels, and onto his knees, grabbing Len by the hips, and pulling him up to a better position. The condom takes a few seconds, but he can see Len looking impatient with him. He runs his fingers over the beautiful lines of the tattoo on Len's back, and then down over his hips, ass, and the back of his thighs, "God, you're beautiful," Barry says, not even thinking about it, it's just the truth, and it needs to be said. He leans over and places a kiss at the small of Len's back, before pushing him forward slightly, and running the head of his cock along the cleft of Len's ass, before pushing in, and forward slowly. 

Len's back tenses slightly, but doesn't stay that way for long, and he pushes back against Barry, and sighs heavily. 

"Feels good?" Barry asks, pulling out and pushing back in, shallow, and a bit slow. 

"Mm."

"Excellent," and shifts, starting work up to a rhythm, when Len turns his head to stare at Barry, "Scarlet, I am not some delicate flower, you're going to fuck me like you mean it - starting now."

Neither of them last- too worked up, too excited, and Barry had done his best to put his abilities to good use, driving Len to the edge a little too soon, but when Barry tips over the edge the rush sings up his spine and out, and he sighs. Len's already slightly slumped over coming back from a roaring orgasm that Barry is pretty proud of, that had his neighbor thumping on the wall. 

Barry slumps forward, and over, draping an arm over Len. They're silent, just breathing, but it's a pleasant calm, before Len slides out of the bed, and out of the room. Barry cleans up a bit, and then slumps back into his pillow. Fuck that had been great, it'd been ages since he'd been inside someone, and he'd forgotten the thrill of it, the connectedness, the burning knees. 

Barry lets Len take a catnap while he stuffs his face, and then orders takeout. If Len wants to eat, he can, if he doesn't, well, all the more food for Barry. 

The next afternoon when he gets to STAR Labs Cisco corners him in his workshop. He's doing his best to look casual, before he puts down the soldering gun, "So, it's cool that you're into guys. Just - so you know. I mean, you don't have to pretend or anything."

"Huh?" Barry asks, stupidly, "No, I know. I wasn't - I didn't think you, or Caitlyn were bigoted or anything, it's just -" he pauses looking for the right word, "private? If you kept this between us three, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure thing, buddy. I'll tell Caitlyn."

"Thanks Cisco, you're the best."

"No problem," and he picks the gun up, with his curious about something not work related face, and says, "Just out of curiosity what was he wearing?"

"Huh? Oh- uh, a shirt with the emblem on it-"

Cisco grins, "Ooh. Never fuck a fan, Barry. Be careful."

Barry chuckles, "Oh believe me- he's not a fan. He was just pushing my buttons."

"I'll bet he was," he says, putting the iron to the circuit board, "Get out of here. Caitlyn wants to see you for a metabolic panel, and probably to check for STDs."

Barry snerks, "Later, man."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a heist, a junk food and Netflix binge, and Zoom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I love this ship. More notes at the end.

It's art this time, not diamonds. It's an easy fence if you can find the right buyer, and a quick cash influx, which Mick needs for some damned thing. Len's long since learned it's better to not ask questions. Instead when Mick had approached him with the request, he'd simply put his mind to the task, targeted a piece, and made a move for it. It'd been two months in the planning, and tonight was the perfect night for it. The Flash is tied up on the other side of Central City, dealing with some meta situation, and that'll make things a lot less complicated. 

The heist goes off without a hitch. He'd planned it, down the very last second, and Mick had managed to keep his cool for once. Mick was a little bent out of shape that he hadn't been able to torch anything, but Len was ignoring that. "I'll contact LeRue tomorrow. You'll have your cash inside a week."

"Len," Mick says. "Thanks." Len has an inkling that Mick is up to some sort of business venture, that will probably end in tears, but he knows better than to get involved, or try and talk him out of it. He'll pull him out of the fire he made, when it arises. It's why they work together, because trust like that can't be bought by larger cuts.

Len just gives him a nod, and a clap on the shoulder. He says goodnight to Lisa, and heads home. They got away clean, the pitifully old cams that were there, were managed, and the guards would only remember a pretty delivery girl, and a nap they weren't expecting, and no face. So, Len feels safe going to his own apartment, the one leased by his primary alias, the one with the college degree, and a retirement fund. 

He's been enjoying the peace of his own Netflix feed, and the familiar bookshelf, and the extra soft sheets on his own bed, when the sun rises, and shines through the curtains in his bedroom. He'd idly palming himself through his boxer briefs, when his phone pings with a text.

BA [06:01]: I got called in early this morning because of an art theft last night.  
BA [06:05]: What I don't get is why? 

To BA [06:15] This number is for hookups, not bitching.

BA [06:17]: Saints - 7PM

To BA [06:45]: I'll think about it.

Len does think about it. He thinks about it all day, weighing the need to get whatever it is that Scarlet's pissed about out of the way. He's going to go, he knows he's going to go, but he's also going to weigh all his options, and argue with himself about it anyway. In the end he shows up at Saints & Sinners at seven on the dot, and orders a round. Barry will be late, there's no sense waiting.

Vi drops into the seat across from him, "Why the long face, sugar?"

"It's nothing."

She folds her arms across her chest, and gives him a hard look, "Don't you bullshit me, Lenny Snart. I've known you too long for that." And damned if that wasn't the truth. Not for the first time he wishes that he were at least a little bit into women, because Violet McPherson is as fierce as she is beautiful, and they'd have raised hell, hellions, and millions between the two of them. 

"Just the usual, boy trouble. He's less than thrilled that I continue to be myself. Which, fuck him, he walked in eyes open - and acts all surprised. It's just - frustrating as all hell."

Vi chuckles, "You'll figure it out. It's that badge, right?"

Len lets out a hmm of agreement, and she grins, "Good for you."

"That's yet to be determined, but the sex is phenomenal."

Vi slaps his arm, "Asshole. Rubbing in your dalliance with a hot young thing. Good luck, Len. Don't fuck this up for yourself." She leaves, and it's only been a few moments before Barry walks in.

He looks pissed, which sucks, because honestly, Len thinks his angry face is sort of adorable- but he can probably hide that. Barry throws himself into the booth across from him, glaring. He's hit by a wave of deja-vu, except this time it's an ending, probably, and not a beginning. He slides the beer across the table to Barry, who takes it, and rolls it back and forth in his hands, for a few moments, before Vi drops another on the table for Len, with a wink. 

"Old girlfriend?"

Len frowns, "Unlike you, Scarlet, I have no particular interest in women in that regard."

"Ah."

"So, no. But, I suppose you could say she's an old friend."

Barry gives him a nod, and then slumps forward into the table, resting on his arms. "I just - don't get it. Why do you do this? I've seen the safe houses, they're nothing special, and barely furnished. You don't wear designer suits, or drive particularly expensive cars. What are you doing with all the money you must have. I mean, Fire & Ice alone was worth millions-"

"Mick torched that one."

Barry frowns, "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Don't ask, he goes in for the stupid grand gesture." It's sort amusing to watch the kid try and parse that statement and then give it up as nonsense. His face hides nothing when it doesn't have the mask on as well. Len can tell the kid is frustrated, annoyed, and hurt. He can tell that the kid feels betrayed, but - he'd been told repeatedly, and if he hadn't believed it, that was his own problem, wasn't it. 

"Regardless- you must have millions sacked away, so- why take more? When is enough, enough?"

"Some things, Mister Allen, are not your business, or concern."

"I just- don't get it. I don't understand, and that's -" he pauses, and runs his hands through his hair, taking a moment to calm down it seems, and then finishes, "frustrating. I just-"

Len takes a long drink from the bottle, and puts it down, "Here's the thing, Barry. You know who am. You know what I do. You knew it when you walked in here two months ago, and gave me your address. So, accept that that is none of your fucking business, and if you don't want to make fucking your business this evening, you can go."

"Fine. I will. It's just - Len, you're better than this. I know you are. Not think - know. I just wish you did too. I'm going. Have a nice night jerking it to thoughts of crawl spaces, and liquid nitrogen." 

Len watches him go, it's still a sight, really, and if it's one the last times it'll ever happen, and it probably is, he might as well enjoy it while he can. He finishes the bottle Vi brought him, and the one that Barry hadn't touched, before she cuts him off. 

"Go home, Len. You need me to call you a cab?"

He shakes his head, "Nah. I'm good. Thanks, Vi."

Walking home takes a while, and it's getting cold, but the cold isn't something he's been afraid of in a while. He takes his time, meandering a bit, before dropping in to Safe house 3, and collapsing into bed, doing his very best to think about anything other than the guy that got under his skin.

* * *

Barry doesn't go his apartment either. He doesn't think Len would show up there, but he feels the need for the comfort of home. Which is why Iris finds him in Joe's living room with four boxes of pizza that he's devoured and is now working his way through a half gallon of mint chip ice cream, while binge watching the third season of White Collar on Netflix.

He's not dumb, he sees the weird parallels between Len and Neal, but this is so much less complicated. It isn't real, it doesn't involve stolen weapons, and meta-humans, or the threat of a new huge problem, now that Eobard has been dealt with. All that they have to deal with are normal thieves, killers, not- super powered speedsters throwing metas through breeches between the multi-universal wall between their earth, and a parallel earth. 

Barry isn't blind, he sees the look she gives him, as she hangs up her coat, and toes off her shoes. She immediately walks into the living room, flops onto the couch, and steals the spoon. "So, what's got you sulking into my mint-chip ice cream?"

Barry frowns, steals the spoon back, and takes a huge spoonful, stuffing it into his mouth, buying himself time to think it over. Telling her everything was completely out of the question, a lie about Flash Business would blow up in his face. In the end he settles for, "My fuck buddy is an asshole, and this seemed like a better option than jerking it to mediocre porn."  
Iris laughs, "Well, I can't disagree with you there. Lots more calories though."

"Well, that's not really an issue. I skipped a brick today, anyway." The bricks are disgusting, mostly, slightly flavored high-calorie bars of vitamins and carbohydrates, proteins and fats, meant to keep him going, but they mostly taste like flour, vitamins, and slightly of peanuts. He's actually taken to covering them in nutella, or the speculoos butter from Trader Joes, and occasionally strawberry jam to change up the flavors, but sometimes he gets tired of them. 

"You know you're not supposed to do that. Caitlin would be really pissed."

"Yeah, well, what Caitlin doesn't know can't hurt her, in this instance."

"So, this fuck buddy, of yours," Iris says, her voice leading, "Is this a 'you have feelings she doesn't have feelings', sort of asshole problem? Because I'm not getting the impression that it's that you don't - " she paused, gesturing to the carnage surrounding Barry, "have feelings."

Barry frowns, trying to figure out how to say enough to get her to stop prying, and not say enough to satisfy her curiosity. "Sort of? But only slightly. It's just a fight, they happen. People disagree, sometimes. It'll be fine, or it'll be over. It's not meant to be forever anyway, it's just - sex."

Iris shakes her head, "Does that really work for anybody, Barry?"

"We'll see."

"You - don't really want to talk about it, do you?" Iris asks, and Barry is so relieved in that moment. Iris doesn't pick those cues up terribly well, and is prone to pushing. It makes her a great reporter, but a horrible confidante sometimes. 

"I really don't," he says, grinning over at her, and she's shaking her head, but she steals the container of ice cream from him, and the spoon, and digs in. 

"Movie?"

Barry grins, and backs out of the episode he hadn't really been watching, and smiles back, "Movie."

The next day Barry decides to let it go. Maybe he and Len might patch things up enough to get back to their regularly scheduled sex, but it isn't romantic, and isn't something that is going to turn into a committed relationship. Len does have good in him, Barry knows this, but he also knows that right now, Len is not on a path that will converge with his in any meaningful way. It can't, but right now - Len is the safe option. Len is strong, fierce, and not easily swayed. He doesn't think Zoom would be able to coax or coerce Len to his side, and that - has value. 

The new girl Patty is beautiful, and adorable, and they have a lot in common, but he doesn't know her - not really. They've just met, and she's definitely driven by something, and he isn't sure what that might be. It isn't that he doesn't trust her to be a good upstanding person, she seems like she is, but he wonders if exploring this chemistry between them will only put her in danger. He can't justify that to himself. 

To Booty Call [13:19] Hey. Can we talk?

Booty Call [14:38] Saints?

To Booty Call [14:40] Sure. 10?

Booty Call [14:42] So late?

To Booty Call [14:43]: Central City is insane. You would not even believe the insanity I've been dealing with this month. So, yes, late. 

Booty Call [14:45] I'll be there. 

And he is there, earlier than Len even, and that's just - weird. He looks like he was dressed for work, which means it really has been a busy day, and he probably has his suit packed into the small leather briefcase beside him. There's two beers on the table, and Len takes one, as soon as he sits down. "Hey."

Barry just shrugs, and takes a long drink. "I'm sorry. I know - I shouldn't have gotten upset."

Len shrugs, "You're welcome to be as unhappy as you like, but I'm not going to stop being me."

"I know. I was just - confused. I still don't understand. And I know you said it's about the thrill, but there's a lot of probably equally as thrilling things you could be doing. But, instead, you steal. But, I guess I don't have to understand."

Barry grabs a napkin off the table, and twists it. "It's just - I do, sort of understand. I think you'd rather I didn't. But, I saw the way Lewis was - with you, and what he did with Lisa. I work at the CCPD, I know about - why Lewis went away. I can put two and two together. I mean - Cisco and The Flash gave statements about Lisa, and I confirmed the bombs matched from the tech, and the one we got out of her - clearly I know -- but still."

Len is just staring at him, waiting for him to ramble his way to the point, and Barry sighs, ripping the napkin in two, and Barry sighs, "It won't happen again."

"Okay."

"Text me?" Barry asks, not sure if hoping that Len just drags him out by his collar, and into a bed somewhere is too much. 

"I'll think about it," Len says, which - typical. 

Barry nods, and taps the table. "Okay." He can accept that, he knows that Len probably has his mind made up already, but he's going to make Barry wait. Walking around the table, Barry pauses, and leans down, and presses a kiss to Len's mouth. "There's another speedster out there, and he's dangerous, Len. Be careful. Don't get hurt. Don't get caught." He presses one last kiss into his lover's lips, and parts with a nod, and a hasty exit. The barmaid has been shooting him the death glare for at least five minutes, and it's time to get out while he can.

* * *

Barry's warning bounces around Len's mind all night, and all of the next day, until he gives in to curiosity and pulls out his phone, around eight in the evening.

To BA[23:29] Tell me about this speedster.

BA [23:29]: His name is Zoom. We closed the singularity - me and Firestorm, but there are still - breeches. Holes between here, and the other end of the singularity. One of the metas from this - other Earth- knows how to use them to travel back and forth, and he's throwing dangerous metas through to kill me. Three so far, with no end in sight, and he also threw a regular human, the biggest dick, and bane of my existence through, or maybe he came on his own. I - haven't figured that out yet.

BA [23:30]: I can see this is too complicated for texting. Drop by? #1?

Barry shows up within two minutes, and Len doesn't groan, but it's a near thing. His hair is both windswept and pillow flattened, and he looks soft in a t-shirt that has a molecule of something in green on navy, clearly well loved, and worn out, over soft plaid blue and green and white pants. He knows he isn't immune to the charms of Barry Allen - not physical, and not his guileless earnestness, but now is not the time for play. "Get in, Scarlet, don't wait on the step all night."

Barry follows Len into the living room, after dropping a pair of black converse next to the door, and collapses into the couch. Len follows, and slides onto the couch, side by side, facing each other, feet touching. "So, the first person, we think, that came through the breeches was Zoom- and he probably did some recon, and then started his - crusade, I suppose. He stole Jay Garrick's speed - he's The Flash from what we're calling Earth 2. Jay came through breech to warn us. He's helping us try and turn one of the breeches into something we can use."

"How?"

"Science?" Barry says, grinning. "He's working on it with Caitlin and Cisco. In the mean time, we've been trying to stabilize Firestorm, which - I think is done. And, then Zoom sent through a giant shark to kill me. Which, he got the drop on me, but was stopped by Harrison Wells from Earth 2."

Len frowns, this guy's life reads like a comic book. "Okay."

"And now I have to listen to his voice, and look at his face, and sometimes I just want to grab him by the throat and scream everything at him, but he isn't the man that killed my mother. He isn't the man that killed Eddie, or Ronnie, he just has the same face."

Len frowns, and then remembers vaguely the report that Henry Allen had been acquitted, earlier in the summer after a taped confession was discovered amongst the man's estate. "I see."

"But he says he's going to help us catch Zoom. So, we're stuck with him."

"And you're watching him?"

"Yeah, we reactivated all the surveillance in the cortex, and all over the lab. Jay hates him- like with a sort of scary intensity that I can appreciate it - he's watching him too."

Len's glad Barry has such a strong corner. He knows that the Central City needs The Flash, running here and there. He brings hope, but he also brings order. He did force Len to up his game, both with his weaponry, and with his skill set, and timing, but he does a lot of good. Without him the CCPD metahuman taskforce would be floundering helplessly, and the city would be a lot closer to chaos. Len doesn't do chaos, it messes up his timelines. 

"Do you have a plan?" he asks, resisting the urge to tackle the man across from him, and pin him into the couch.

"To?"

"Stopping this - Zoom character?" 

"Not right now. For now we're trying to find a way to trap him, maybe. Or limit his access to Earth 1."

Len pauses, "I'll think about it, a bit."

"Huh?"

"It seems to me that approaching the problem like a speedster might not work against another speedster. Maybe speed isn't the answer."

"Go on," Barry says, gesturing for Len to continue. 

"You can't try and out speed a speedster. It doesn't work. You taught me that. You change the game. That's what he did to - Jay, is the name?"

"Yes."

"He's sending you metas, is he coming through?" He's going to have think about this one. It's hard to plan for someone you know so little about, but it's not impossible.

"We don't know."

"If you can - I would test him."

"How?"

"I'm not sure, it might depend on the opportunity. Test his limits."

"I'll see what I can do. Are you - helping me?"

"We both agreed that we love this city. Sometimes lines blur." Len grins, and stands up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Barry asks, but that daft grin is back on his face. His lover isn't stupid, he knows what's what.

"I can take you on the couch, but the bed is so much more comfortable," Len drawls, stepping away.

"We should test it, make sure. I'm not sure I've been in the bed at Number 1."

"I'll draft you a survey later. " Len leans down slightly grabs Barry around the waist, and hefts him over his shoulder.

"What just happened?" Barry asks, laughter in his voice, and can he feel Barry's grip on his ass, even through his jeans. "Nice view."

"Shut up. You were taking too long," and he lifts a hand, and smacks Barry on the ass. "You've been a naughty thing, you know. I'm going to punish you. Make you beg."

Barry groans, "Fuck. Yes. Do that."

Len kicks open the door to he tosses Barry onto the bed. His soft pants are tented, and his pupils almost eclipse the green of his eyes. He crawls onto the mattress, pressing Barry back into the mattress, and feels a knot of tension that he's been carrying around for two weeks unravel. Back to equilibrium. 

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you'll start to see the timeline as it relates to S2. A Family of Rogues happened before the start of Frenemies, I've basically simply .. stretched the season out. I'll follow as closely to the events of the canon as I can manage, though Len's influence will change some things. (Sorry Patty!)
> 
> The top half was actually a struggle to get out for some reason, I think because part of me didn't want to write this, but I think this would ultimately have to be addressed between the two of them - they live such contradicting lives, and it's bound to dust up from time to time. 
> 
> As usual, thank you so much for the kudos and comments, I love them-- I love you guys! Next chapter probably near the end of the week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which there is Hockey, Lisa, Smut, and Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know I promised an update earlier, but the holidays stole all my time. I wanted to give everybody a Smutmas present though, sorry its a day late!
> 
> Enjoy! And again, thanks to everybody who has left comments and kudos, I love you guys!
> 
> Edit 4/6: fixed my hockey flub. !!! Sorry!

Things go back to their brand of normal. They even get a little more fun than Len had anticipated, as Barry had taken to sending him pictures. Sometimes selfies of him looking at the camera with lust-filled gazes. Sometimes, pictures of long long legs covered in soft fabric, and bare feet. Sometimes pictures of him fresh out of the shower, grinning at him in the mirror, palming himself through the towel. It's amazing, and Len writes back to every image with a promise for what he's going to do to Barry, and he's going to do every single one of them. He hasn't sent back any pics for fear that somehow West will get into the phone, but Barry doesn't seem to mind much. 

BA [15:30]: Please tell me you aren't busy tonight? I'm up to my elbows in this, and I really need a distraction.

To BA [15:32]: Can't. The Blackhawks are playing at the arena tonight. Had tickets for months. 

BA [15:33] Bummer. Will console myself with ice cream and movies. 

But at the last minute Mick calls, and says he's stuck at the bar. Which is what Mick did with his cut of the fenced painting- bought a bar, and named it Ignition- very subtle. In any event, he now has an extra ticket, and Lisa has already refused. 

To BA [16:47]: Mick bailed on the hockey game. Have an extra ticket. NOT A DATE. Come?

BA [16:50]: Anything is better than staring at the mass spec for another minute. Meet at the arena, when?

To BA [16:50]: 5:30?

BA [16:51]: Deal.

Len meets Barry outside the arena, it's a huge beautiful icy monument to hockey on the north side of the city center, and he may look calm, but inside he is stoked- welcome to the church of hockey. Barry seems happy to eat half his weight in food, and pay some attention to the game, but Len isn't blind, the guy is shivering so hard he might as well be vibrating. "Why are you shivering so much? It's cold in here, but not that cold."

"I don't do cold very well. Not since the lightning."

Understatement. "Apparently," Len says, shrugging out of his jacket, and wrapping it around Barry's shoulders. Barry burrows into the thing, slides his arms in, and pulling it tight around him. Len moves closer, pressing against Barry's side from shoulder to knee and holds him in place. It keeps the speedster moderately comfortable through the end of the second period, after which Len can't taking the shivering anymore. 

Len never really gave too much thought to why exactly the cold gun shot cold, except that it was extremely effective. If they were still enemies this would be fascinating, but right now it's just driving him mad. His leg is going to chafe from the constant rub of denim against his skin. "You want to get out of here?"

Barry tilts his head slightly. "The game's not over? You wanted to see it. You were practically preaching the gospel of hockey when we first sat down."

He isn't wrong. Hockey is his off-season lover, but the kid is struggling, and if they're still playing this little game come spring, he'll drag the kid to plenty of games. "If you're going to vibrate against me, Scarlet, I want it to be because I've taken you apart. I was thinking we could grab some food. I can tell you're going to need to eat if you want to keep up later. Am I right?"

Barry's out of his seat in seconds, "Yes. Let's do that."

They end up at a sushi bar on Bluebird Ave, not far from Saints, and not far from Number Six. Barry's already put away a spicy tuna roll, and unagi, and has started on the row of salmon sashimi. Len has seen him eat numerous times now, but it's still amazing every time. "Where does it all go?"

Barry grins and takes a bite of the veggie tempura they've been sharing. "I've stopped asking questions like that. Is it off-putting? Sometimes Iris says it grosses her out."

"It's a fact of your biology. You need to take care of your body. I'm not grossed out, just sort of - always surprised."

Barry shrugs, "So, when we're done eating - maybe run down the street, have a drink, shoot some pool?"

That's a surprise. "You want to do that?" He always got the impression that the guy only liked to go to collect him, and get out as fast as possible. 

"Well, maybe not tonight, it is getting kind of late. But, some time, sure."

Len nods, filing that one away for later. It's not immediately important, but it's definitely interesting. He's fairly sure that it's not a bid for intelligence, Barry would probably just ask if he really wanted to know something- or at least he would ask first. Maybe. They did just sort of patch things together, maybe he wouldn't. It's worth noting, though. If his operations are in fact being watched - he needs to know.

Barry frowns. "What?"

"Are you back on watching out for my heists again?"

"What? Len, that's the last thing I want to do! I apologized. You hold up your end of the deal, and you're the CCPD's problem. But, I'm not going to destroy evidence for you! But, you don't leave any, normally. Why are you asking me this?"

"Why else would you want to go to my bar? Scope the place out, see if you can spot some Rogues, hmm?"

The change in Barry is instant, his expression goes from puzzled to angry in half a second, and his hand shakes, and he exhales sharply and glances at Len. "Not everything is about you being Cold. Maybe I just like going, and having some drinks and shooting pool. Maybe I want to get Vi to tell me embarrassing stories about you."

Len really wants to believe him. He's torn though. Is it foolish to believe that his righteousness won't win out against his need to capture Cold? Probably. It's not foolish to bury that if he wants to continue, he knows that as well. "That's it?"

Barry throws his hands up, and sighs heavily, clearly frustrated. "That's it!"

"Fine," Len concedes. "Can't blame me for wondering."

Barry frowns at him, "I can, actually. But I won't. Because you're going to take me to bed, and make it up to me."

"Am I?" Len asks, smirking at him. "Am I really?"

Barry nods, grinning. "You really are. You just accused me of not being on the level. I think you're going to have to wring at least three orgasms out of me, before I feel better about it."

Len grins. Challenge fucking accepted. Once they get back to the safe house Len slams Barry back into the door, the moment its shut. "You're going to play this my way, Scarlet."

"And what way is that?"

"Strip, right here."

Barry grins, and starts pulling off his jacket. "And then?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Len says, dropping his jacket on the floor, and starting in on the buttons of his shirt. 

Barry speeds out of his clothes, and Len is left grinning, and shucking his pants off, along with his boxers. "Follow me."

Len pulls open the door to the bathroom, and gestures Barry into the wash room. He turns the shower on, a medium hot, and then turns to Barry. "Get in."

Barry is already grinning like its Christmas morning, and he steps into the shower, and then reaches over, and gives Len a gentle tug, and he goes with it, stepping into the glass shower, and back into the spray. Barry seems very enthusiastic about it, he's running his hands over the water-slick skin of his back, and he realizes that Barry is taking in the detail in his tattoos. Even as he does, he ventures lower, and lower, tracing invisible lines of his own making down Len's hips, the backs of his thighs, and ass. It's sort of mesmerizing in its own way, but it also feels amazing. It isn't long before Barry pushes him forward, and Len leans his hands against the tile as Barry kneels down in the shower.  
"This seems counterproductive to my goal of making you feel better about it."

"Oh did you think this was for your benefit?" Barry asked, slapping him on the ass. "That's cute. But, I'm going to do whatever I want to your ass, and then I'm going to come all over your back."

Len has zero issues with this plan, though he feels like he should put up at least a token protest, but Barry has pulled his cheeks apart, and - fuck his tongue feels amazing- and any protest he might have made gets lost in the haze. 

Some days Len knows this is the worst idea ever, that playing sex games with Barry Allen is going to leave him fucked in ways that have nothing to do with dicks. In moments like this however, when they're water slick, and Barry's tongue is turning his knees to jelly, it's almost impossible to ignore the intense desire to make this man his. To steal him away, his Barry, and no one else's, to not share him with everyone at STAR Labs, and the family that hates him. That insistent _wantwantwant, mineminemine_ that crowds his mind when they're wrapped up in each other recently.

Danger Will Robinson. 

And Barry's standing, crowding in from behind, and Len tucks a hand behind him, touching Barry's warm skin, and feels Barry's arms slide around him, over his stomach and chest, his cock sliding into his cleft. "Mm."

"Like that, huh?"

"Yes." It's the truth, why not run with it. And Barry's shifting down, his cock rubbing along his ass, and Len groans because fuck it's like being a goddamned teenager again he's so horny, and so hard. 

Barry reaches around, and wraps a hand around Len's cock in a firm grip, "Len."

"What?" Len asks, wrapping his hand around Barry's, and creating a pressure and rhythm that feels good. 

"Your body is art, and I don't just mean these," Barry says his lips grazing the back of his neck, and Len can feel Barry's fingers skirt over his back, and down his arms over his tattoos, "and your skin tastes like Central City water, and just you, and it's fucking amazing. And, when we're together- like this," and Barry pauses in his rut, and Len wants to scream in frustration when Barry's hand stalls on his cock as well, "it's just as fucking amazing. Best idea ever."

Len groans. "Barry Allen, you're going to focus, and you're going to get down to business, so we can clean up for real, and then I'm going to throw you into my bed, and you're going to sleep."

"That sentence was going to really interesting places until it ended in the word sleep."

"Yes well, tough. We can't all be lightning powered super heroes."

Barry sinks his teeth into the back of Len's shoulder, "Some of us, are technologically and intellectually gifted super villains," Barry says, and Len can hear the grin in his voice, except it isn't really funny. What the fuck is he on about?

"Some of us desperately want to come, Scarlet. Before the water runs cold."

And thank fuck his mouth stops talking, and instead he goes back to rutting against him, and pressing wet open mouthed kisses to his back, and shoulders, and Len only needs a dozen strokes to come with a shout, followed by Barry's own orgasm, and Len feels Barry's hands grip his hips tight, and he's going to bruise, and his already spent dick twitches with appreciation. 

When he's done, Len turns back into the spray to rinse off, and pulls Barry close under with him, sliding his hand around his neck, and angling him for a kiss. "Do you feel better about things?"

"Mmhmm," Barry says, between kisses, and Len grins, and slides the shower door open. "Come on, bed." He steps out first, and grabs towels, and throws one at Barry. "Come on Scarlet."

Len does throw Barry into the bed, and he does climb in after him, curling around his back, and letting a hand rest on his stomach. "Go to sleep, and I'll see if I can't work off more my debt in the morning."

"Sounds good," Barry says, and drops off to sleep only moments later. The kid has sleeping skills Len can only be envious of, because he stares at the ceiling, contemplating how absolutely fucking fucked he is until a little past one in the morning. 

The next morning Len rolls out of bed an hour before Barry is likely to rise, and heads into the kitchen. Lisa is sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a box of Krispie Kremes. Those aren't going to survive to lunch time, Len knows. "Hey, sis."

"Lenny. Had I known your boyfriend was going to keep me up all night, I'd have crashed somewhere else."

Len smirks, "He's still not my boyfriend."

"He stayed the night, Lenny. That isn't what you do with your fuck buddies unless you're drunk."

"Maybe we were drunk. You didn't have to stay, you know."

She shrugs, and takes a sip of her coffee, and sighs, "I didn't feel like getting changed, and calling a cab. It's fine. Keep me in caffeine."

Len shrugs, "Sure."

"He still here?"

"Uh, yeah, he's gonna sleep for a while longer. Breakfast that isn't sugar covered fried dough?"

"Sure."

Len makes Lisa an omelet, and sizzles some potatoes in a pan with onions, and peppers, and spices. She groans at the potatoes, and Len gets to work making more, because Barry will eat a metric ton of them. He cracks the rest of the eggs, and mixes them up, ready for when his lover does show. 

He gives him another twenty minutes, before excusing himself, and heading upstairs. Barry's laying in his sheets, his face turned away from the shard of light peeking through the curtains. Len crawls into the bed, and runs a hand over Barry's stomach, "Good morning, Scarlet."

Barry makes a happy hmming noise, and Len laughs, sliding under the sheets, wrapping a hand around his soft cock, and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I was told that orgasms were the repayment owed for my," Len pauses running his thumb over the head, and in a gentle circle before continuing, "transgressions."

Barry's clearly mostly awake at this point, and he lets out a low moan. "Len."

"I also believe, that I have only paid part of my debt."

Barry glares at him, frustrated, and then says, "Yes!" and wiggles slightly, and Len knows he's feeling a bit impatient, hoping for friction, for pressure, for anything. 

"If you time it right, you can eat before you speed off to work," Len says, conversationally, even as he increases the pressure slightly, and strokes up Barry's length up, and down.  
Barry shudders beneath him, and reaches out, dragging Len in for a kiss. "Don't stop, babe," he says, panting slightly, as Len shifts slightly, and continues, slowing increasing the pace, letting it build in the way he knows Barry likes. "Yes, just like that."

Len let's Barry continue, babbling, it's so hot, and he's found that his young lover is exceedingly prone to letting his mouth run when he's enjoying himself too much to think. "Not a bit slower?" Len asks, but he doesn't change anything, but he watches Barry blink up at him in horror. Serves him right for the night before.

"Tease!" Barry accuses, running his hand down his stomach, and back up over his chest, teasing his own nipples, and Len, already hardening in his pants feels his cock twitch and harden further at the slight. 

Len just tsks, and speeds up, "What have I told you, Barry? It's not teasing, if you mean to put out."

"Oh fuck," Barry moans, his dick hardening even further in Len's hand, and Len grins, increasing the pressure just slightly.

"Feels good?"

"So good, Len."

"Faster?" Len asks, turning his mind to his task, single-minded. Barry is gorgeous with flushed cheeks, and jerking hips, surrounded by navy blue sheets, and the early morning sunlight dithered through the curtains. 

"Mm, yes, more."

Len does as he's bid, and is rewarded when Barry comes with a shout, over his hand, only moments later. Len grins, and rolls him over, pressing him into the mattress. "You now have thirty-five minutes and fifty-three seconds to shower, eat, and get to work."

"I hate you so much."

"Evidence suggests otherwise, Barry. Forty seven seconds."

"Well, get up, then."

Len snerks, and pushes off the bed, and out, stopping to smack Barry's pert little bottom before ducking out the door. 

When he gets back downstairs Lisa is still sitting at the table, but she has two couch cushions pressed to her ears. "You're a disgusting exhibitionist, Lenny."

"I'm no such thing, but I do pay my debts, and a debt was owing." He sets to work, and chats to Lisa about her task of finding a way to recruit Hartley Rathaway to the Rogues. 

Fifteen minutes later, Barry comes down fresh from the shower, and wearing one of Len's shirts, and his jeans from the night before. "Hey."

"Hey. Lisa, Barry. Barry, Lisa."

Len picks up two plates, one modestly full, and the other heaping with food, and walks to the table. "Breakfast."

Lisa is looking at Barry fairly intently for another minute before she blurts out, "Hey! You're Cisco's friend. From the bar- and Jitters."

"Uh, yeah. That's me," he smiles at Len when he's handed a fork, and digs in. 

"Do you work at STAR Labs? I've been out there once, you weren't there."

"Oh!" Barry says, mouth a little bit full, but he is on the clock. "No, just Cisco and Caitlin are there. I uh -"

Len decides to put the guy out of his misery, he's gotten three desperate looks that are begging for him to stop her. "Barry works for the CSI division of the CCPD, Sis."

She turns and stares at Len for a long moment, "Are you serious? That's - insane."

Barry chuckles, and takes a huge bite of toast. "It's actually very carefully balanced."

"Uh huh. Well, good fucking luck, I guess. And, tell Cisco I said hi. I've been traumatized enough for one morning."

Barry chuckles, and Len gestures for her to get the fuck out already with his eyes. Barry finishes his breakfast in record time, and then speeds out the door with a cheeky grin on his face and a promise to text soon.

* * *

Barry is definitely okay with how they left things this morning, he's less than thrilled with how things had gone the night before. He's been sitting in the lab, waiting on the centrifuge - there's more people in the office today, and he can't get away with using his abilities to speed that process up, when he has an idea.

To Felicity [11:21]: Hey, you busy?

Felicity [11:22]: No more than usual. What's up?

To Felicity [11:22]: Just looking to get some perspective. Can we chat later?

Felicity [11:23]: How about lunch break? Can you take yours at 2?

To Felicity [11:24]: As long as no dead bodies take precedence. Talk later. Tx.

At two his phone rings, just as he's sitting down to a sandwich at the diner a block away from the station. Taking his break later than everyone else also meant there wasn't anyone here to overhear, and more importantly to tell Joe, about the conversation. It's perfect, and he answers on the second ring. "Hey Felicity."

"Hey. What's up, Barry?"

He sighs, "So I've been seeing someone for - six months? And, the thing is - lately it's been - like, the sex is great. But. I feel like - maybe he's not - into it anymore? Like maybe he's just going along."

Felicity was quiet a minute, and then answered, "Completely ignoring the fact that you said he, and I really want to hear that story. What would you like my take on?"

"I just - is there a way to ask about the rest? I mean, we agreed - you know, friends with benefits. But I feel like the friends potential is - hurting - a little bit? And, I don't want that, if I can help it."

"Let me just get this straight. You met someone, and then decided to be friends with benefits."

"Yes."

"Okay. And, you've been doing this for six months."

"Almost."

"And you're in love with them?"

"Uhm. I wouldn't say that. I mean, I'm invested in the sort of friendship we're building. I really want that. I liked it when we were - less uneasy. I don't - I'm not sure why things are different."

"Maybe your fella there has some feelings he doesn't know what to do with. Especially since you're not feeling them, maybe. So, he's sticking to what he can manage, which is the sex."

Barry sighs, "Maybe, but I seriously doubt it?"

"Why?"

"Because - that's not how he is. He's - not the kind of guy to fall in love. He's not the kind of guy that conflates love and sex. "

Felicity sighs down the line, "Barry, he's human, right? So - that's pretty much all of us, after a while." There's a long pause, and Barry spends it eating his sandwich as quietly as he can, before Felicity says, "I think you should do a performance review. Not - you know - a performance review like - you said the sex is fine - but like, a state of the union, such as it is. How things are, what you want, what he wants, what you want to change, what you don't want to change, that sort of thing."

"I can't see that happening, but maybe."

"If there's one thing I've learned in the last few years it's that secrets do more harm than good. If one of you is carrying around feelings, and the other isn't, or he's upset about something, or has a serious relationship he's building with someone else- you'll be better off knowing about it."

"You're right. I'll think about it. Thanks Felicity."

"No problem. Now, are we going to discuss the fact that you're seeing a guy?!"

"Uhm."

"Is he hot? Can he use a salmon ladder?"

Barry laughs, "Uh, I think so, and I don't know."

"Uh huh. What's his name?"

"Len."

"Okay. And?"

"I'm not telling you more! You'll google him, or check his records somewhere, or hack his bank records."

Felicity laughs, "You know it."

"Hey, listen, I'm sorry to bail, but I have to finish my lunch and race back to work."

"Don't worry about it. But, let me know how it goes, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks again, Felicity."

"Hey, what are friends for?" and she hangs up.

Barry sighs, and finishes his sandwich and races back to work, literally. The day is a long slog of tests, and no excitement other than Detective Spivot popping in once or twice to check in on results, and flirt. He hates turning a blind eye to her flirting, but it's for her own good, and - for his own sanity. Things with Len aren't perfect - but they're still pretty damn good. 

To Booty Call [16:11]: Hey. Coffee tonight? Jitters, or maybe even Saints? 

Booty Call [16:13]: Saints. 9?

To Booty Call [16:14]: See you then. 

At 9:10, he's drank two beers waiting, and Vi is regaling him with tales of Len attempting to chat up a pair of twins once, when Mick Rory had stormed in, and dragged him out by his collar because he'd been so distracted by so much handsome that he'd been late to a job. 

"Really?"

Vi laughed, "Really. Probably the only time too, but they must have been just his type."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, they didn't look that different from you, young man. And Len's clearly over the moon about you, if you're still here after what - five months?"

Barry grins, "Maybe," he glances down and unlocks his phone to check the time, or check for messages. "Except he's late now. Twenty minutes."

Barry texts Len.  
To Booty Call [21:20]: hey. you're late. that's fine, but you're going to show?

It's another ten minutes with no answer, that he knows something is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun....


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Len gets really cold, Barry gets blinded, and Lisa sleeps in a very uncomfortable chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! I'm sorry for the delay. Life, anxiety, more holidays, and writing struggles happened. I'm working as hard and as fast as I can, but I actually derailed my original outline, to fit better with the original timeline, and because I felt like I needed to so I could do justice to the progression of their relationship. So, I'm reworking some of the upcoming chapters, but I have started Chapter 6, and have a clear idea of what I want to do. 
> 
> So, here you go. And, as always, thank you to my readers, kudos clickers, and commenters, I love you guys. 
> 
> Spoilery (to this chapter) notes at the end.

When Len wakes, he's hit first by the dark. It's absolutely pitch black, not the tiniest bit of light coming in from under a door or through a window. And that's annoying, but the immediate wave of cold that hits his brain next is almost immediately terrifying. It's freezing wherever he is, colder even than it would be outside, and it takes him a minute to get his bearings in the minimal light. The floor is metal, and cold, and he feels around - shelves- full of packages, some wrapped in plastic, some boxes. He's in a fucking freezer.

Shitshitshit. He isn't sure how long he was out. His brain feels a little weird, but that's probably from the drugs that he was no doubt dosed with. His head doesn't feel tender anywhere. It must have been at least twenty minutes, maybe longer, since he's shivering, and his fingers are already quite cold. 

He crams a stiff hand into his pocket - phone's gone. Okay. He tries the door. He tries the safety. Broken. Time to triage. Staying alive, and warm as long as possible. Panicking, Len tells himself firmly, is not allowed - conserve oxygen, and limit carbon dioxide. He's not sure if the freezer is airtight, best to assume it is. Stay as warm as possible. He checks with his hands looking for anything that isn't metal or already frozen, with no luck. No aprons, or pallets have been tossed inside, and he's going to have to stand as long as possible to limit radiating cold from the metal floor, and walls. He tucks his jeans into his socks, and does his best to tie his sleeves together and conserve heat inside his jacket. He crams his hands under his arms, and sighs heavily. There's nothing he can do to get himself out at the moment, but he can increase his chances by surviving longer. 

It takes a few minutes before he wonders if Barry thinks he's been stood up. Then he wishes he had his parka, because leather is a great insulator, but it's not terribly warm on its own.

* * *

It's the fifth safe house that Barry has tried before he finds Mick Rory. Which had not been his intention, he'd been hoping to find Lisa- but quite frankly, if he had to run into a Rogue, Mick might be the least likely to simply kill him where he stands- hopefully not with fire.

"Who the fuck are you?" Mick asks, glaring at him, a beer in one hand, and his gun pointed at Barry in his other, standing in the kitchen.

"I'm Barry. I'm - Len's - uh, sex friend?"

"Ah, the boytoy. I'll ask a slightly different question. What the fuck are you doing here?"

Barry frowns, "I was hoping to find Len, or failing that, Lisa. We agreed to meet at Saints at 9, and he didn't show. And, hey if he stood me up, then, fine, whatever. But, he didn't answer any of the texts I sent."

"So?"

"So, I don't care- no that's not true, I do care if he stood me up, but I can live with it. But, I want to make sure he's not - in some kind of trouble."

"And?"

"If you text him, ask basically anything he'd usually reply to right away, and then if he doesn't answer, we - have a problem."

Mick doesn't say a word, but he does take out a phone that looks like a matchbook in his huge hands, and taps at it. "There. You want a beer while you wait?"

"Uh, sure," Barry says, unsure what the right thing to do here is. 

Mick nods, and grabs one out of the refrigerator and twists the cap off in an effortless gesture before he slings it into to the sink, and hands the bottle over. "So, you've been around longer than most. You gonna join?"

Barry frowns, "Join what?"

"The Rogues? The loose confederation of blue collar thieves, and -"

Barry holds up two hands, "Hey, first, let me stop you there. I'm not going to join, because I work for the CCPD. Yes, Len knows, but I ignore that part of him, and he ignores my job, and it works. But I don't need to know anything, and I think Len would prefer if I knew less not more about his uhm, operation."

"Are you for fucking real?"

"Yes! So, please, stop talking about that. How long has it been?"

Mick looks ready to have an apoplectic fit, but he pulls his phone out and frowns, "Three minutes."

"When do you panic?"

"Two more minutes. "

"Okay." That sounds like a reasonable amount of time. Right? Right.

"So, you're a cop?" Mick asks, glaring and rolling the beer bottle between his hands. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, and Barry can hardly believe that the man survived the horrific burns that are on display, barely covered by the thin white tank he's wearing over black cargo trousers.

"No. I'm a forensic analyst. Fingerprints, substance testing, footprint, tread analysis. That sort of thing. No badge."

"That sounds boring."

Barry grins, "It isn't."

"It's so exciting you have to go home and fuck a bit of rough, a criminal to get your fun. Something about that seems like you might be bored to me."

Barry shakes his head, "I really don't care what you think. I like science. Science and engineering made you Heatwave. So, take it or leave it. I don't care. Can we just move on to panicking now?"

Mick growls, and picks his phone out of his pocket again and then nods, "Yes. I'll - start working through some contacts, see if anyone has seen him, start from there."

"Great. I'm going to go ask Cisco to see if he can find the cold gun."

"What?" Mick demands, suddenly full of concern and rage.

"It's just a cold signature. I - He works on the metahuman task force- so we know each other. It's fine."

"Does Lenny know you can do that?"

Barry shrugs, "I didn't think to ask him if he understood the properties of his gun, I'm afraid it slipped my mind between all the crazy sexcapades. So, can you please focus, give me your phone number, and I will go do my part, and you can do yours."

They do go their separate ways, and Barry speeds into STAR Labs. "Cisco!" 

"Yeah, man, what's up?" he asks, standing in the door between the cortex and one of the lab rooms that is Caitlin's. 

"Can you scan for the cold gun?"

"Captain Cold up to no good again?" he asks, heading over to the main console. He shoves a lollipop back into his mouth with a grin, after plopping gracelessly into the desk chair.

"Let's just go with that, yeah?" Barry says, and Cisco gives him a hard stare. 

"Fine." He sits at the screen, and taps away for a few seconds, giving Barry a hard look. "It's running. You gonna tell me what this is about?" Cisco asks, turning in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sometimes, we meet up at, this shitty dive bar on the east side, and talk. Not like about anything that's about the Flash, or Cold, but - just- things. He actually had a really great idea about Zoom, but he's been quiet, or maybe until now." 

"You got advice from Cold - about how to deal with Zoom," Cisco states, in a baffled voice. 

"It just came up, that wasn't what I was there for. The first time was during the whole thing with his dad. I tracked him down to talk. We were supposed to get together tonight, and he didn't show. Which is pretty unusual, so I found Heatwave, who couldn't get an answer either. Something's wrong. Anyway, any hits?"

Cisco taps at a few buttons, and then a few more. "No. I mean, it doesn't last forever, the cold signature left by use dissipates, it doesn't radiate when it's not active. Sorry, Barry." He pauses, and then asks, frowning, "How'd you find Heatwave?"

"Uh, I went to Cold's place and he was there?" Barry says, hoping that Cisco won't read too much into this. 

Cisco just blinks at him, "Dude, I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole. Sorry I asked. Good luck."

"Thanks. Maybe Lisa will turn up something. If Zoom has grabbed him, we'll have to wait and see when he turns up. If he does.'

* * *

Len has a near perfect internal clock, but either the drugs, the dark or the cold, or maybe all three are taking their toll because he's having a hard time figuring out how long he's been in here. His ears are burning they're so cold, and he thinks his jaw muscles are starting to ache from the chattering. He's grateful that they are though, frankly, because shivering and chattering are still good signs that he's maintaining some body heat. He's taken to short bursts of pacing to build up body heat without creating sweat, and that seems to help slightly.

The thing is, that his legs are tired. All of his body, and his mind is tired, he's been awake with the exception of whatever time he was unconscious for coming up on twenty or so hours, and his body wants rest. But rest will probably kill him, as his body heat radiates out into the cold metal floor. 

He just has to keep standing.

He hopes that Mick will take care of Lisa. Or maybe Cisco, he's a do-gooder, but maybe that's what she needs. 

He leans back slightly against the shelf, hoping that the minor amount of relaxation that gives him doesn't cost him the equivalent in body heat. 

He can keep standing. He can. For now.

* * *

Barry lays in bed all night, completely unable to sleep. Not knowing is going to make him crazy. He'd like to think that Len is just AWOL, maybe he's off sleeping with some other guy, but Barry doesn't think so. And he can't do anything about it. He has to trust that Len's Rogues will do their best. He can't get involved any more than he has. He's not sure he'd know where to even start.  
He groans into his pillow, frustrated, feeling torn in two directions. He just has this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something's very wrong.

* * *

Len can feel himself falling asleep in increments. His body is exhausted, and he can tell his brain is starting to feel the cold, as he keeps thinking of increasingly nonsensical things he wants to do. Like crawl inside of one of Barry's STAR Labs sweatshirts that he wears all the time, still smelling of Barry's cologne, warm and cozy looking. He blinks hard, a series of long blinks, fighting.

He jerks awake later, still standing, and he wonders how long he was asleep. Not long. Couldn't have been.

He wakes up in a cold rush of pain when he realizes he's fallen into a shelf, and its digging into his back painfully, and he pushes himself up using a ledge to brace himself. He stands. He will keep standing. 

His knees last a while longer, he doesn't know how long. Maybe an hour. Maybe it was those stretchy minutes that last forever and you have all the time in the world to think, and plan, and go before the world catches up. But they give out, losing the war against fatigued muscles, and he hastily dumps a box of he doesn't know what out, and sits in it. It's something. Not much, but something. 

He sits for some time, drowsing in and out, blinking into the darkness. 

He sleeps.

* * *

It's early the next morning when Barry gets a call from Lisa.

"We found him." Except she sounds horrible.

Through the phone he hears a gruff voice say, "What's wrong with him?"

"He's been locked in a freezer, what do you think?"

Barry feels his heart rate increase. "And he's alive?"

"Yeah. But he's so cold. But he does have a pulse, he's breathing. We called an ambulance."

"I'll meet you at the hospital. Text me as soon as you know where you're going, okay?"

He gets a text the next morning from Lisa. 

Lisa [07:02]: Still in the ICU at University Hospital. His body temp is still low, but the nurses just keep telling me he's some kind of genius because he kept himself protected for as long as he did. 

Lisa [07:02]: And all that keeps running through my head is 'The Cold Never Bothered Him Anyway!' and that's so fucked up. He has frostbite on his ears and his cheeks. Not as bad as it could be they said. No 'unmanagable' tissue damage. 

Lisa [07:03]: He woke up earlier, but he's asleep again. They said that the rewarming process hurts a lot, and I think they're keeping him mildly sedated. So many tubes. 

To Lisa [07:04]: I'm so glad he's going to be okay. Let me know when he's out of the ICU and I will come by. 

Lisa [07:04]: Len says bring him a sweatshirt. He's cold. And also apparently you should come snuggle him since you're so warm. The drugs look fun. 

To Lisa [07:05]: Tell him I'll bring him a shirt. Tonight.

Except Barry spends the evening with Iris, blinded by Dr Light, and unable to help anybody. 

When his sight returns, in the early hours of the night, Barry scoops up a STAR Labs sweatshirt, and speeds to the hospital. A quick call to Lisa's phone, which Len answers confirms that Len is on the fifth floor, in room 21, and Barry speeds through the usual security checks that would keep him out. But he ducks into the room shirt clutched in hand. "Hey," he whispers, seeing Lisa sleeping in the chair by the bed. 

Len is awake though, looking uncomfortable. He's buried under layers of hospital warming blankets, and a number of monitor leads disappear into them. He has gauze on his right ear, and across his cheeks. A hefty amount of stubble has grown in, and Barry is inappropriately struck by how attractive it is. "Scarlet. Fancy meeting you here."

Barry grins, "I brought the sweatshirt you asked for."

Len frowns, looking slightly confused. "I asked for?"

"You may have been a little out of it this morning, but you did. So," Barry sets it down on the side table, away from the pitcher of water, and a remote for the television. "Enjoy." Barry takes a chair from the corner and drags it closer to Lisa. "How are you feeling?" His monitors are beeping steadily, and the tiny screen reports that his body temperately is now 97.4. Which, he supposes is nearly there.

"Like death rewarmed, Scarlet."

"Do you know who did this? Was it Zoom?" Barry asks, because he has to know. If Zoom wanted to take Cold out of the picture, he knows more than Barry is even remotely comfortable with him knowing.

Len chuckles, "Nothing so dramatic. Mikey Santini's still pissed I shouldered his old man out of Central City, apparently."

"A turf war? Seriously?"

"Apparently. What a crap way to go."

Barry shakes his head, "Except you're still here. So, what'd the doctor's say?"

"That I'm very lucky. The blisters from the frostbite will come in in about another 18 hours, It'll be disgusting. I might scar. But, hopefully it'll make me look badass, and not horribly disfigured."

Barry grins, "Oh, well hopefully. I mean, who wants to hook up with a horribly disfigured person? I mean, honestly, I don't know how Cisco does it." Len laughs, and now Barry knows that Len is enjoying his paid meds. The lack of measured pace in his voice, had been the first clue, but now he's absolutely certain. "You're in a lot of pain?"

Len shrugs, "It comes and goes. It's mostly like horrific burning on my ears, but I have some uncomfortable tingling that's more like fiery needles being jammed into my skin, almost all over. Right now, it's more like- pins and needles. So, I'll take it. They're keeping me off most of the good meds because it can interfere."

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Hazards of the job, Scarlet," he says, and he lets his head lean back against the bed. "How are your hazards? I saw you stopped someone else's heist today. Lisa watches the news when she's upset."

"Zoom sent a new meta here for me. She has some kind of light power. I'm meeting with Jay at STAR Labs tomorrow to talk about her. It'll be fun. We'll see if I can use her to lure Zoom out. Try some Cold advice."

Len nods, "Good luck. Now, I'm going to pass out in about three minutes. Kiss me, and get the fuck out."

Barry smiles, and leans in and gives Len a soft kiss. "I'm really glad you're going to be okay. Have Lisa text me if you want to see my face."

"Yup."

Barry pushes the chair away and when he turns back, Len's eyes are closed, but Barry can see his finger pressing down on the button for the nurse. He's definitely on the meds, but he'd been putting on a brave face. "Feel better, babe."

As Barry leaves the hospital, he's filled with relief. Glad that his friend or lover or nemesis, or whatever he is, is going to pull through. The conversation that he had wanted to have is still weighing on his mind, but now isn't the time for evaluation, now is time for Len to heal. And Barry is going to find a way to stop Zoom. When that's done they can try and figure out their relationship. It's a plan. It'll work. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably. Definitely. Of course it will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. 
> 
> Lastly, before I get back to work on Chapter Six, I did my best to make this as realistic as possible. I consulted several people that have worked with industrial freezers and refrigerators to verify certain facts about how they work (ie: locks, airflow, etc.), as well as reading medical information, diagnoses, instructions on managing cold environments, as well as personal descriptions of people who have experienced rewarming, and frostbite, to try and make this as realistic as possible. If anybody has anything they want to add from personal experience, that they think may add to the story please/feel free to leave it for me in the comments. I would hate to detract from a reader's experience because they were like OMG THIS SO WRONG. 
> 
> Personally, I went back and forth about how much Len might know about managing the cold, but I think ultimately he would have done at least a little research when he started playing with liquid nitrogen, as well as having a gun that can freeze his environment. He seems like the fastidious type that way. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm off to work on Chapter Six which in my notes is titled "the beatdown, womp womp'


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6: In which there are tests, beatdowns, and lightbulbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the most amazing Monday - I wrote the entire chapter, and still had time to do a ton of other things, it was phenomenal. So, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I listened to twenty one pilots almost on a loop while writing this, I have no idea why, but I couldn't stop. Len is a giant mush, and I think their cover of I Can't Help Falling In Love, spoke to his soul or something. 
> 
> As ever, thanks to all the wonderful people that have left kudos, or comments and come back, you guys are wonderful.

Barry has thought long and hard, since Len had mentioned testing Zoom's limits. He could see in hindsight, a few times when they'd faced off that was either exactly or at least partly what he'd been about. Certainly the disaster at Ferris Air had been part of that, Barry was sure. 

But, if he's going to test Zoom, it isn't going to be the sort of test that involves seeing how much he can get away with, or how much bullshit he can call him on, or how long it takes him to respond to a variety of alarms across the city. 

He has some definite ideas but now, in this moment, Barry wishes he'd had time to plan even more. Zoom is terrifying up close, black unnatural eyes, and claws. The mask seems to stretch as it if were his real skin, except it's definitely a suit. 

Linda has gotten clear, and for that Barry is grateful, but there's no sense wasting the opportunity. Wells will be here soon with the dart, which might work -- and he takes off running. Zoom doesn't pursue, and that's interesting by itself. He circles STAR Labs several times, until he knows he has a decent charge built up, and is absolutely dumbstruck, when Zoom grabs it like it's a piece of plastic, and not actual volts of electricity, and hurtles it back at him. And for the second time in his life, he's too slow to dodge lightning.

It hurts, and he can actually feel his heart thumping in a weird rhythm attempting to fix its own rhythm desperately, even as he tries to push himself up off the ground, his body aching from the impact against the sign. 

The check in is quick, Caitlin's voice is tight with concern, and Cisco is Cisco. But he's going to get as much out of this fight as he can get. "What do you want from me?!" Barry demands to know. Zoom doesn't seem like the monologue type, but it never hurts to try. 

"Everything."

Which means precisely nothing - does he want his shoelaces? Of course not. "You want to be me? Is that it?" Barry taunts, taking a page from a book that really isn't his. "You want to be a hero?"

"Heroes die."

And Barry totally gets in that moment why Len loves the banter, and he gives a smug grin, "Only if you can catch them."

It doesn't take him long to try a few more things, as his heart finds its proper rhythm again. They speed up and around the building, fighting and exchanging blows as they fall at equal velocity. He clearly can't out speed Zoom, but maybe he thinks as they slam high speed punches on each other, that he can distract him long enough for Wells to get off a shot. Except it becomes quite clear that he can't outfight him, he thinks, as he falls in a spin, knowing that something is very badly wrong when you hear your own back and spinal column crunch. But he doesn't remember much of the rest through a haze of speed, and horrific pain, as he was jostled and battered around the city, and then paraded through a haze of semi-consciousness. 

He doesn't remember when he'd closed his eyes either.

* * *

Len's laying in bed in his own apartment, pleased to be home. His face is still a mess, but he's in his own bed, with his own sheets and blankets, and books, and it's a blessed relief. He's buried himself in blankets, and is halfway through a reread of one of his favorite novels, when his phone goes. It's a new phone, so it's pretty much guaranteed that it's Lisa.

Sis [21:32]: TURN ON CHANNEL SIX. NOW.

Len frowns, and unburies himself and makes his way to the living room, and turns the television on. They've interrupted programming to show two clips back to back, with a talking head from the local news.

"The masked speedster is as of yet unidentified, and calls to the CCPD have not yielded any information other than to warm people to stay out of the way of the metahuman that they are calling Zoom. He is to be considered extremely dangerous, and armed at all times. We'll return to the Picture News coverage once again, before we resume our broadcast of your regularly scheduled programming. Our hopes and prayers are with our city's beloved scarlet speedster. More to follow as the story progresses at eleven PM." They cut back to footage, and Len feels his heart drop into his stomach.

A monstrous looking meta with claws for fingers, and a skin tight full body suit in dull grey and silver suit, has all over black eyes, and the lightning emblem on his chest, the same as Barry. He's covered in small flashes of blue lightning, like he's moving fast even while standing still. He's holding Barry up, slumped next to him, by a hand at the back of his neck, pliable and bloody in ways that suggests to Len that major damage has been done. "Look at your hero!" he says, calmly, moving to hold Barry up with a single hand. Len watches Barry dangle, like a rag doll on his fingers. "This," Zoom growls, "is no god. He is nothing," and then he exits in a flash with a blur of blue. 

They tune back to some programming, but Len has no idea what it is. He's lost in his own head, that was Zoom? Barry hadn't said he was up against what amounted to a speed demon. Len frowns, thinking through what Zoom had said. Yes, Central City, absolutely heralded The Flash as a hero. They'd had that silly Flash Day festival, and some of the Jitters in the city had the Flash drinks, and there were action figures that had recently popped up - kind of weird. But Len was pretty certain that no one was worshiping at the church of The Flash. 

Except maybe him. But that was completely different. Because it's Barry, and not the Flash, and frankly, some dicks just deserve to be worshipped. Len is pretty certain that that was not was Zoom was referencing. 

He waits with baited breath for twenty painful minutes for the news to return, and when they do they have only security footage from the CCPD, where apparently the monster had dragged Barry after their visit to Picture News. Zoom drags him up to a hallways on the upper floor that leads to the interrogation rooms, and addresses the cops. "The days of the Flash protecting this city are over. What will you do without your precious hero?" and Len felt a pit of cold sink into his stomach, uncomfortable and painful, because what does that mean? Does that mean the man that Zoom has been parading around is just.. a body? He doesn't even know what happened next, because he's out of his comfortable chair, and back into his street clothes. He grabs his gun and parka on the way out the door. 

There's only one destination in his mind, and heedless of the cold air on his cheeks, he hops onto his bike, and speeds to STAR Labs. The security measures are nearly jokes, and he bypasses most of them easily, when finally Cisco races down the hallway. "Yo! Yo! What the hell are you doing here, man?"

And Len wishes he could lie, and say he kept his cool, and had some great one-liner, but all that comes out is, "Is he alive? Is Barry alive?!"

"Yes," Cisco says, in the face of what appears to be very real concern. He watches as Snart, who is bandaged and looking more than a little worse for wear, slumps back against the wall in either exhaustion or relief, or perhaps both. 

"Good," is all that Snart says, taking a few deep breaths, like he's been holding it. 

Cisco watches for a moment, and then suddenly a puzzle of 'weird things going on with Barry' all slide together. Barry seeing Snart, knowing the locations of his local bar, his place. The fact that he's seeing a guy on the side for fun, that doesn't mind him speeding out whenever he's needed. Needing the location of the cold gun last week, when here is Snart looking worse for wear. And now, here's Snart, very concerned that Barry is hurt. Ho-lee crap is he going to give Barry so much shit about this. "You're the Booty Call guy, aren't you?"

And Snart just nods, too tired and worried to care that Ramon pieced it together. He would have sooner or later, so why worry now. "Yeah."

Cisco opens his mouth to reply, and his first instinct is to just kick his ass out, he has what he needs, and he's a fucking asshole that hurt his brother, and nearly blew Caitlin up, and has stolen and hurt more people that Cisco wants to think about, but he pauses. Because this is the man that Barry likes well enough to panic about. Cisco's managed to figure out from length of time it takes him to answer and show up, that Barry spends about two nights a week on the lower east side of the city - presumably where Snart holes up most of the time. "Look, right now, I have Joe, and Iris, and Jay and Harry fighting like dogs in there. Let me find you a terminal somewhere, and you can keep an eye on him. Can I trust you do not do anything else to it?"

Len just nods. "Not much for computer work."

Cisco frowns, pretty sure that's not true, for all that Leonard Snart has no record of higher-education, he certainly doesn't come off as uneducated or unintelligent. "Okay. You can keep an eye on him, and once I can kick everybody else out, you can come and see him. But - he's pretty bad. Caitlin is still working on determining the extent of the damage, so if she needs to fix anything she can. You might not want to be here for that."

Len nods, and follows Cisco to a quiet room off a hallway. Cisco hooks up a terminal for him, and patches him into the security feed for the medical bay. Barry is laying in the bed, his neck is in a brace, and he's bleeding from his eyebrows, and there's a fucking puncture wound in his chest that looks bad. His knee looks slightly wrong, as well. Caitlin is buzzing around him, working on his wounds, checking arms and fingers diligently, presumably for breaks. 

She only occasionally pauses to glare at where the others presumably are, and it goes on for some time. Len can actually hear some of the argument, off and on as the volume and pitch changes. It takes about a half an hour before he hears Caitlin, who has disappeared from the screen, shout somewhat shrilly, "I am trying to work here. You can ALL go home, and get the hell out of my medical facility. You are doing me no good, and I need to concentrate on helping Barry. So, if you would all kindly leave, it would be most appreciated. Cisco, I need you to stay."

Len is alone, watching them for a while, Cisco is gently working Barry out of the rest of the suit, and Barry is, thankfully unconscious. They move him, at one point to a gurney, and the room is empty and quiet for a time before they return. When they return, Barry is in a number of new braces, and Cisco is nodding at whatever it is that Caitlin is telling him.

Not three minutes later, Cisco finds him. "Hey, man. Sorry for the delay. We had to do an MRI. Caitlin is going to take a quick powernap, and I'm going to run out and get like a million energy drinks. You need anything?"

Len just shakes his head. "No."

"You want to sit with him? We don't expect him to wake up, but, just in case, it'd be good if someone is there."

When Cisco brings Len back to the medical bay portion of what Len knows they call the cortex. Caitlin is laying on a second bed, nearly asleep. She looks over when they walk in, and she makes a disapproving face, and then sighs, "Don't hurt our Barry. Ever."

Len nods. "That's not the plan."

She gives him a look, and the rolls over. "Wake me in thirty minutes, I need to wash, and scrub up."

"Will do."

For twenty minutes its quiet in the cortex. The quiet of Barry and Caitlin breathing in and out, the steady beeping of monitors, the occasional whirring of what Len isn't sure but might be a pump of some kind. It's nearly peaceful. Cisco returns to interrupt the peace, but he brings food, and a huge bag of energy drinks, and high-protein bars, and far too many lollipops for a grown man to purchase. 

"Everything cool?"

"Quiet."

Cisco nods, and a few minutes later they wake Caitlin who eats and drinks, and then runs off. Cisco pulls Len away from Barry and into the cortex. "You might not want to stay for this."

"I - what's wrong with him in the first place?" Len asks, still keenly aware that no one has actually told him how badly hurt Barry actually is. 

Cisco sighs, "Right now - he's got a pretty bad concussion, his back is broken, we don't know if the spinal cord was damaged. The MRI was not entirely conclusive, so we'll have to wait for Barry to wake up. He has a punctured lung, some broken, some cracked ribs, his knee was banged pretty badly at some point we don't know when, and Caitlin's concerned about his glucose levels, but we're not entire sure what they need to be."

Len frowns, "I had the impression you had a handle on that. With the bricks or whatever?"

Cisco frowned looking annoyed, "He even calls them bricks with you, huh?" He sighs, "I hate that. They aren't bricks. They're high-density nutrition bars. They are perfectly optimized to handle his nutritional needs, and they took me months to formulate, and they take me forever to bake, and he calls them bricks and smothers them in cookie butter. It's gross."

"Cisco - the point, please?" Len asks, frustrated. 

"So, Harry - that's what we're calling Wells the evil sequel - created this formula, that's supposed to help us stop Zoom. But - he and Barry fought - and Wells shot the dart at him- but he caught it. And Barry was already down - he stabbed him with it. So now, Barry's been slowed down - including his ability to regenerate. It'll wear off, but in the mean time we have to stabilize him, and minimize the damage as much as possible. And try and find a way to manage the pain once he does wake up."

Len nods, he knows from experience that his body burns through alcohol, it stands to reason it burns though painkillers just as well. "Okay. I think I'll stay. I just - I feel like I should."

Cisco frowns, "Look, man, I don't know what's going on with all of this-" he says, gesturing to his own face, "or the reason that you look like shit, but - we can't handle two patients."

"I got stuffed in a freezer for something approaching ten hours. It sort of sucked. This is frostbite. I'm healing. It's great. I'll leave if I'm in the way. But, I'd like to come back."  
Cisco nods, "Of course. Give me your number, and I'll text you when the coast is clear."

Len gives him the number, and checks that its correct, before going back into the medbay. Caitlin is pulling out trays of sterile tools that she hasn't opened yet, but she's in scrubs, and the face mask is tucked below her chin. "Take care of him."

She nods, "Of course. He's my friend too."

Len takes a moment to say goodbye, carefully giving Barry's hand a gentle squeeze, and pressing a brief kiss to his palm, "You fight hard, Barry Allen, don't leave me without a nemesis. I won't win like this," he says. Some part of Len wants to say more, like promising him something, or confessing something might help. But it won't, because that's not the deal. And Len doesn't believe in the kind of miracles that come from sentiment, or some disney-fied crap like true love. But he can trust Caitlin to do her best to fix him. He kisses his hand one more time, and walks out of the medbay and doesn't stop until he's reached his bike.

He heads home and collapses into bed. His body is furious with him, exhausted and he wishes he had more of the Tylenol with codeine, but he escapes into the small relief that is sleep, restless though it is, full of worries about the man he's come to like far too much.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two people don't talk about their feelings, make plans, and Iris and Joe are avoided at all costs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry this took a little longer than usual, but ... its longer than usual? Actually I had a hard time around the middle, and skipped forward to get away from the block, and then just kept writing .. and now I have 2,230 words of Chapter 8 already written as well. 
> 
> As ever, thank you everyone for your kudos and comments. I love you guys so hard. 
> 
> Fun Fact: The musical inspiration for this chapter can be watched [here](https://youtu.be/6ThQkrXHdh4).

Len is going crazy. He'd gotten a text from Cisco about ten hours ago that simply said:

Ramon [13:17]: Barry's awake. I'll text you when it's clear for you to come. 

It's a horrible idea to push, or worse to simply show up, but part of Len is tempted anyway. At this point it's nearly three in the morning, which meant it is unlikely that the Wests are present, but it was also likely that Barry is asleep. 

He rolls over in his bed, and stares at the ceiling. He'd gone for one of his many scheduled follow ups this afternoon, and the doctor had been pleased with his recovery from the hypothermia, but was still holding out the all clear on the frostbite. Apparently his face was in the clear - thankfully, though they said it may scar slightly, but that they were still hoping for the best on his ears. Len agreed to simply keep treating them. They wouldn't agree to anything before three months. That seemed ridiculous to him, but apparently both frostbite and burn damage could be subtle. 

He sighs heavily, and rolls out of bed. He can tell that sleep just isn't going to happen. Instead, he drags on a pair of running tights, and slides a pair of shorts over them, and a tank top. A run might help him get his brain in order, or exhaust himself enough to sleep. Either outcome is acceptable. 

The pace he sets is just short of punishing, but the burn in his lungs, and the fatigue settling into his limbs is welcome, and as his loop around the west-side of town finishes and he's plunking down on the sidewalk in the early dawn light, his phone pings. 

Ramon [05:01]: Yo man, if you want to drop by this morning, everybody else should be cleared out.

To Ramon [05:02]: I'll be by in about 45. Do you need anything? Coffee?

Ramon [05:02]: You're breaking my preconceived notions of bad guys. Bring donuts.

Len just chuckles to himself, and tucks the phone back into his shorts, and goes to work stretching aching muscles enough to function, and then running in for the fastest shower ever. He's out the door, and on his bike in twenty-five, and grabs a box of donuts, and a dozen breakfast sandwiches. It's a little precarious on his bike, but it works with the side carrier, and he parks it down the street a bit. He's met by Cisco at the door, who lets him in. 

"What's wrong?"

"So, we're super glad for his healing factor, but - this one's going to take a while. There was damage to the spinal cord. We managed to move the bits of bone back into place so they'll heal just fine, and the pressure was taken off, but some damage happened anyway. He'll be okay in - some amount of - days probably - but he can't currently feel his legs."

"And he's going to be fine in a few days?"

"Give or take a few days?"

Honestly, the guy's abilities never cease to amaze him - speed, some sort of abilities with voltage if the tiny shocks he gets off him sometimes mean anything, and a healing factor worth being quite jealous of. "All right. He's awake?" 

"He goes in and out, but I think he'd like to see you."

"Does he know, you know?"

"I mentioned you stopped by, yes." He punches a code into the wall, and they head down to the central cortex of STAR Labs. Len puts the food he bought down in the main area, before walking into the medbay. Barry's still laying prone in the bed, hooked up to many monitors and drips. He looks like he's lightly dozing, wrapped up in a STAR Labs sweatshirt, the neck brace still present. 

Len stands beside the bed, and takes Barry's hand just brushing his fingers against his palm, when Barry turns his neck slightly, and his eyes open. "Hey."

"I hear you're down for the count for a few days."

Barry gives a tiny nod, looking sullen. "Apparently."

"Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Enough."

Len sighs. He's distinctly sure that Barry doesn't want him here. "You want me to go?"

Barry frowns, "No. No-- It's good to see you. You look - better. I mean still with the bandages, but you're not in bed, and under blankets and heat lamps. I'm glad you're on your feet. I'm just -- I - feel weak. I failed. Who wants to feel like that, and then have your - nemesis, bring you breakfast? Which smells amazing."

Len shakes his head, "Well, you brought me a sweatshirt that I apparently asked for in a drug related haze. We'll call it even. I'm going to grab some, and come back, and we're going to talk."

Len brings back four breakfast sandwiches and two donuts, and Barry tucks in, and eats almost all of it in a flash. Len lingers over the lone sandwich left amongst the carnage of wrappers and napkins, "So, sometimes this really annoying little shit shows up and foils all my plans. And, it's frustrating. But, the thing is, that I think we both sort of get a kick out of the game now. I try again, and I win some, and I lose some. And every time I get a little better, he has to get a little bit better, and we just keep going it, this cycle. I'm honestly pretty fond of the little shit at this point."

"I heard that rumor."

"The point I'm trying to make, is that yes, you failed, and yes Central saw it. But you're going to get better, and you're going to get back out there, and show them that you're still going to keep being The Flash. That's all that Central cares about."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I live in it. Saints is full of people that talk. The Rogues talk. People talk on the metro, in diners, and coffee shops, and everybody is worried. They aren't angry, they're concerned that you might be gone."

Barry nods. "What if I don't heal?"

"Ramon didn't seem to think that was likely. So, let's focus on the problem at hand."

"Which is?"

"What you learned from your fight, and what you can do to win next time," Len says, hoping that he's jostled Barry out of the funk he was driving himself towards in a hurry. He takes a step forward, and looks over at all of Barry's monitors. Things look okay, his oxygen levels are fine, and his heart rate is slightly elevated, but if Caitlin isn't concerned Len isn't either. The glucose drip is nearly empty, but Barry doesn't look glazed or spaced the way he can when he's teetering on the edge of a food-related meltdown.

He takes Barry's hand gently, mindful of the IV, and strokes it with his thumb. "I'm glad you're going to be okay."

Barry looks up from the space he's been focusing on, and looks at Len. "I'm pretty hardy."

"You're not invincible though. I was worried.'

Barry grins then, "Yeah, I heard you broke in. Risky move."

"Some things are worth risking yourself for," Len finds himself saying, before immediately regretting it. He'd said too much, betrayed himself - shown the speedster his cards, and he was going to get tossed out -

Instead, however, Barry just gives him a grin. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you. You're not so bad a guy."

"Don't go telling people that!"

Barry shakes his head, and sees Caitlin hovering in the door. "Hey Caitlin."

"Good morning Barry. Leonard."

"Dr Snow."

"Caitlin is fine. How are you feeling, Barry? On the usual scale," she asks, coming closer into the room, and checking the monitors, and IVs.

"A six?"

She nods. "How are your legs feeling?"

"Zero?"

"That'll probably change at some point today. Let me know when it does, if you need some help for the pain, we'll try out the next formulation, see how long it lasts."

"Okay."

"So," she says, turning to face them both head on, instead of the display of monitors, folding her arms across her chest. "Does either one of you care to explain just what the hell you think you're doing together? You-" she says pointing at Barry, "are going to lose your job!"

"Caitlin, it's fine."

She frowns. "It isn't. You'll lose your job, and you'll never get another job in law enforcement. Does it not bother you that he's a killer?"

Barry frowns, because he's spent hours thinking about his answer to this, because he knows that probably someday he'd have to answer it. "In case it's escaped your notice, I am too. I killed the Everyman, and Sand Demon, and Atom Smasher, and I've gotten other people killed- like Bette," Barry sighs, and takes a moment to breathe. He shrugs delicately, "I'm not a saint either, Caitlin. I feel like sometimes you and Cisco sometimes forget that stopping the bad guy sometimes means they're dead - but they're dead, and somewhere their families probably hate me for it. I'm not saying I'm okay with the life that Len has chosen, but I am saying that I don't get to judge him for it."

"He kidnapped me, and strapped me to a bomb, Barry!"

Barry looks over at Len. "Anything you'd like to say to that?"

Len makes a thinking face, and then says, "Very sorry. Won't happen again."

She blinks at him and then throws her hands in the air. "Whatever. I warned you, Barry Allen. And this discussion is not over. You bet your ass that we're having a team meeting about this."

Barry tries desperately to not smile. He honestly loves Caitlin like the little sister he never had. She's testy, and somewhat short sighted, and is occasionally hilarious; but, she honestly cares about him. She isn't angry for herself, she's upset that Barry's risking himself - well she's a little angry for herself, he's not dumb, but he loves that she cares enough about him to call Len on his bullshit to his face. "That's fine."

"Good! You have a half an hour to say your heartfelt whatevers, and then you're out, Cold. Barry needs to start therapy on his knee, and having people around won't help."

Len stares. "What does she think this is about?"

Barry shrugs, "People assume when they don't know. I can set them straight. Don't worry."

He nods, briefly, "Get better, Scarlet. Call me when you're at least walking. We can talk about what to do about the rest. Is it okay if I kiss you?"

"It's fine with me, if you're okay with knowing that Cisco and Caitlin are totally watching this from the other room. And - don't move my neck?"

Len shakes his head, and looks for the camera and waves, before leaning down and pressing his lips against Barry's gently in a fairly chaste kiss - twice. "Text me if you want to see my face," he says, mirroring the words that he'd been given when Barry left the hospital.

"Okay. Thanks, Len," is all he can muster, because the fatigue is taking him again, his body demanding rest. 

Therapy that afternoon is torture, because he is extremely grateful that he can feel his legs, but now he can feel the horrific pain in his knee from the bruised knee cap and torn muscle, as well as his nerves healing. It's horrible. 

The next morning he's alone in the cortex briefly, before Joe and Iris show up. Caitlin is in soon after them, and promptly pissed. "You're in considerable pain. Why didn't you text me?"

Barry shrugs, "You need to sleep."

"I can live without some sleep for a night. You know who needs to sleep? You do! How many hours did you get?"

"Maybe two?"

She sighs, "Excellent. Have your breakfast with Joe and Iris, and we're trying out the new pain killer after."

Iris makes a fuss over him, and they all have bagels with cream cheese, before they go off to work. Joe is giving him sad eyes, and Iris is still just glad he's alive. She's adjusting his blankets again, when he finally frowns, "Guys, I'm fine. I'll be fine. Go to work. Go - act like everything is normal."

After they leave, with another fifteen minutes of coaxing, Caitlin comes back and hits him with her latest formulation of pain killer that might work - and it does. He enjoys a blissful thirty minutes pain free before it starts to fade away, but it had been enough to get him through the worst of the bends and stretches for his knee, and she'd been thrilled with his progress. She says once his knee is in a better place he can start walking on it, but for now she's happy with him sitting up. Cisco helps him into Wells' old motor chair, which they both manfully decide to not be embarrassed about.

Late in the afternoon Barry is allowed to try and stand up, while strapped into a hard back brace. Despite everything he feels extremely fragile and while he knows that his legs aren't shaking, it doesn't feel - normal, and he says so. 

"Barry, four days ago you were a broken mess. Today you're standing up. Normal people, if they ever got here, would have to rehab for months to get here. Don't expect to be perfect tomorrow, or even the next day. But, you'll get there."

"I know."

She gives him her sad conciliatory smile. "Do you want to try and take a step?"

He frowns, and then nods. "Yes."

And he does, and it's not horrible. Caitlin is grinning, and Cisco is cheering and Barry feels like the weight of the world just left him. He is definitely going to walk again. He's going to run again. He is healing, and on his way to being back to normal, and had he been alone, he's pretty sure he'd have broke down and cried in relief. But Cisco is already helping him back into the chair, and his phone is ringing. 

Cisco grabs it for him, and hands it over.

There's a photo of Len that he'd taken on the sly on the screen when Cisco hands it over with a look like he's totally grossed out. Barry flips Cisco off who flips him off right back with a grin, and Barry taps the answer button. "Hey."

"Is it safe to spring you?"

"Uhm. You want to do that because?"

"I thought we were past the suspicion stage. I just thought you might like to sleep in your own bed." 

And the second that the idea is planted in his mind, it's almost literally the only thing that Barry wants in the world. "That sounds amazing. Yes, please."

"Give me an hour."

Barry spends twenty out of his sixty minutes begging Caitlin to let him go, twenty being read the riot act and agreeing to a lengthy discussion the next afternoon, and the remaining twenty minutes were him being given instructions on every topic from preventing any reinjury, adjustments to his dietary requirements, how much sleep he needed, when he was to call, and that he was not, under any circumstances whatsoever, to engage in any kind of sexual activity whatsoever. 

It's a little disappointing, he'd been hoping to get Len to blow him, because an orgasm might help him relax, but Caitlin is very insistent that that is, at the moment, not a good idea. 

An hour since the call, minus zero minutes, Len walks into the Cortex. Barry wants to melt, because he looks amazing, dressed in tight jeans, and a blue cashmere sweater and boots. Salvation thy name is Len, and damn his ass looks so good in those pants. "I'm here to spring the Scarlet Speedster. Who wants to help?" he hears through the glass, and he can't help but smile a little. He knows their agreement is just an agreement, but he's grateful that when Len moves on to someone that can promise permanence, or honesty or both, they might at least manage to stay frenemies. And that'll definitely be worth it.

* * *

Len had tucked Barry into his bed the minute they got home. It hadn't taken more than five minutes for him to pass out, and Len had taken the time to order dinner, and check in with the Rogues. Things were quiet in town. People were frightened, and the fact that the Flash hadn't been seen. Len had anticipated an uptick in activity, knowing the Flash was off the board, but instead things were quieter than usual. Perhaps the unknown element that Zoom presented was the missing variable.

He'd spent the last two days thinking over the situation, and had even gotten Cisco to share the security feeds they'd been able tap into to watch at least portions of the fight with Zoom. It was pretty clear to Len, that there was a lot of work to do. And a lot of questions to answer. 

Len wakes Barry for dinner, who apologizes at least twice, before hoovering his dinner. 

"Barry, like food, this is just something your body needs to do right now. You don't have to apologize."

"Okay."

Len nods. "Better."

It's a quiet night, they watch a few episodes of a show called White Collar that the kid seems to be binge watching about some plucky thieves working, sort of, with the FBI. Three episodes in, Barry's fallen back into a doze, and Len turns the television off. He washes their plates, forks and cups, and sighs to himself taking in the small kitchenette. 

He's in too deep now, and he knows it. He's in the guy's house, taking care of him, doing dishes, and watching television, with literally no opportunity for sex to become a factor. He's known he was sliding down the ravine, but he hadn't realized how far he'd gone until he saw that monster dragging Barry's body around the city like it was nothing more than meat. He knows that that sooner or later, Barry will start asking questions. 

Questions whose answers will only point to the end of their agreement. He sighs heavily, and stares at the man asleep on the couch that is basically the embodiment of everything he's always wanted in a relationship - trustworthy, delightfully complicated, intelligent, amusing, handsome, and sexually flexible - all wrapped up in a neat little bow, and completely unsustainable. Murphy is a cruel bastard, he thinks before putting that thought away in a box.

He leans over, and lays a hand on Barry's knee. "Come on, Scarlet. Let's get you back in bed."

"You'll stay?" he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

Len stares, unsure how to parse the request, and answers simply, "If you want me to."

Later, after they've washed up a bit, and crawled into bed, Len rolls over, and tucks Barry against his side. "Can I ask a question? It's probably against the rules of engagement."

"I reserve the right to not answer, but you can ask."

Len hmms into the back of Barry's neck. "Fair enough. Why did Cisco create a cold gun? I mean, of all the weapons in the world, that one."

Barry frowns. "It's got to do with how matter behaves - matter that is colder oscillates slower, and the opposite is true for heat. They made the gun to stop me, in case I wasn't-"

"In case you were more bad than good. Interesting. I always wondered. So, my question is - if I could stop you, or at least slow you down, with the gun - "

And Barry's eyes widen, and he rolls over very gingerly. "Of course! I mean, we don't know how he works, we haven't been able to get a blood sample, even. I'll see if Jay can come in, in the morning."

Len nods. "Good plan. Gold star. Now go to sleep."

Barry snuffles a laugh into his chest, and Len slides a hand down the long slope of Barry's back, letting his fingers just graze over the skin, and then sliding back up palm flat to the skin. Soft, and uninjured, despite recent injury and surgery. Barry Allen is a miracle, and he's gorgeous, and for now, he's Len's. He shifts his head slightly into the pillow and sighs, waiting for sleep to take him. 

The next morning, Barry dodges the West's inquiries, and promises to meet up for dinner instead. Caitlin contacts Jay, and he promises to show up. Nobody's asking Harry for anything, and whether or not he shows is anyone's guess. 

When they arrive, Cisco and Caitlin are chatting around the cortex console, and Jay is staring at the treadmill. Barry still isn't running at full speed, or even three hundred miles per hour yet, but he's going to get there. He doesn't know if Jay will, and he can kind of imagine how Jay's feeling, now that he's been slowed down as well. Barry's just grateful that for him it's only temporary. "Good morning," he says, grinning. 

"So," Cisco says, after taking a sip of some kind of frozen latte, "what's so important that we had to convene first thing this morning?"

"Jay," Barry asks, excited and curious, "Do you have a Captain Cold in your universe?"

Jay frowns, and then looks over at Len, who is casually, leaning against a counter. He's not wearing the gun, or the parka, instead he's wearing what Barry thinks of as his civilian clothes - which seem to consist almost entirely of black skinny jeans, boots, and a variety of henleys, plaid shirts, and extremely comfortable cashmere sweaters. "Uh-" he does another double take and then answers, "Uh, yeah. Sort of. I mean, he calls himself Citizen Cold, or people call him that. He's a thief. Not like Dr Light, she steals for herself. Uh, Citizen Cold, and the Rogues Gallery steal and then - give it back - massive hospital donations, and school funding for special projects. Do you guys have stories about Robin Hood and his Merry Men? It's kind of like that."

And Cisco starts laughing, "Oh man, that is too good. You're a good guy!"

"Shut it, Ramon," Len says, glaring. "The actually important question is -"

"What does the outfit look like? Do you know? Is it like - boring, or more sort of steam punk - your hat's got that sort of aesthetic to it?"

Jay frowns. "I - don't know what that means. He has a blue jacket lined in white fur, with a hood, and dark goggles."

Len tuts, "White stands out on cameras, and gets dirty. That's just - careless. Shame on other me. So, his gun - "

Jay looks over at Len, his facial expression all confusion, "He doesn't have a gun that I know of. Do you have a gun? What does it do?"

Cisco pipes up then, "It has a cold gun with a projectile engine capable of generating white cold ice at absolute zero."

Jay tilts his head, "That's - crazy. But fascinating."

But then Cisco says, "If he doesn't have a cold gun, then why is he Citizen Cold?"

"He's a metahuman. He can blast ice from his hands- they ice up to about here-" Jay says, gesturing with his hand to just below his elbow, "and he can generate a cold field in a twenty meter radius from himself."

Barry grins, "That's awesome. But the real question I wanted to ask you, is - has he fought with Zoom?"

Jay shakes his head, "Not that I'm aware of. Not before I left. I don't think he'd be an ideal target. The meta-humans that he's grabbed and sent through in the past weren't - people with personal power, or loners. I don't think Zoom is overly worried about the Rogues, but it may simply be inconvenient to kick that bees nest."

"Do you?" Barry asks, too curious for caution.

"Not if I can help it. I did accidentally go on a blind date with Plastique once. Not really a good idea."

And Barry is staggered. She's alive in their world. That's - she's a bad guy, but she's alive. It's amazing. And Len is a metahuman. "Hm."

"There is another cold-related metahuman on earth-2. I've never met her, but I've heard of her. She's all bad though, Killerfrost. She and Zoom have faced off at least once. She lived to tell the tale, so that's something."

"Did the ice affect Zoom?"

Jay frowns, and seems to think about it, "Yes, but not - massively."

"Yeah," Cisco says, jumping on, "but she's probably not pumping out cold at absolute zero, either. I mean, you're not thinking in the wrong direction here. I might be able to create something that could - that cold field idea is just -" he kisses his finger tips, "mwah! genius. You clearly tried to even the playing field, Barry, with the equal velocities, attempt, but maybe we weren't thinking far enough down that road. Let me play with some ideas, in the mean time."

Len frowns, "What is the benefit of the cold-field if they are both affected by it? I know Barry's affected by the cold -and not just my gun. Trying to sit through a hockey game was almost torture."

Cisco frowns, and the shakes his head, "I really don't want to know anything about what you two do in your off time, by the way. You're still on my shit list. No, what I'm thinking is - Zoom expects just Barry to face him. What if we expanded our front? It's hard to fight a war in two directions. Never engage in a land war in Asia, and all that. So, we get air support - "

"FIRESTORM can't help us - if we're trying to keep Zoom's abilities at bay," Caitlin points out, and Len is baffled, because he's heard of Firestorm several times now, but the guy's never shown his face.

"No, but we could get some pew pew pew action going on from our friends in Star City, right?"

"Maybe. We can ask. But, is that enough?"

Len sighs, "It can't be. Even if you can keep him in the cold field, and I'm not sure you can. He caught every bullet that the CPPD fired at him. It stands to reason he could catch an arrow." He's less than thrilled about the idea of getting The Arrow involved in this. He has a record for killing things, and while Len definitely wants Zoom dead, he also doesn't want to be dead himself, and he just seems like the type to shoot first and ask questions later. He'll have to think about that one.

"The cold field will slow him down. How much is - up for debate. We can run some simulations based on what we do know about his speed."

Barry nods, "It's a start. Cisco - run with it. Thank you for the intel, Jay."

Jay nods, "Any time. But, honestly Barry, he's -"

"We're going to get him," Barry says, his voice filled with conviction. 

"And, " Len butts in, with a smirk, "I'm going to teach you how to fight."

Barry frowns, "What do you mean? I know how to fight."

Len rolls his eyes. "You know how to throw a punch, sure. But you rely far too much on your velocity to make the impact. And that's fine against most of your opponents, but it's not going to work on Zoom. It didn't. Cisco let me watch the security footage from outside. You both fight using your hands, and you only pull back with your arm and your shoulder, but you need the power from your hips. But you have legs, and heads, and elbows and teeth, and you need to learn to use them. So, when you're back to normal, I'm going to teach you to fight."

Caitlin frowns, "Why would you do that? He can use it against you-"

Len shrugs, "He can try." But the truth is if Barry beat him in a fist fight, Len would probably be more turned on, and surprised than anything. "Don't you have an MRI you wanted to do?"

She nods. "Yes. Barry, you ready?"

"Yes!" Barry half-shouts, and Len helps him into a standing position. He's healing, slowly but surely, and standing isn't too bad, but walking is still proving to be slightly difficult. 

He helps him back into the testing area. He's just gotten Barry situated in the machine, when Cisco runs in, "Yo, we got Wests incoming!"

Len leans forward and gives Barry a quick kiss. "I'll text you later."

"Kay," Barry says, looking pinched, and Len sighs, wishing he didn't have to leave. It's pretty clear that Barry's feeling the pain from standing for the length of the discussion, and the short walk into the medbay. 

"Okay," he says, kissing Barry's palm once again, before walking out, and letting Cisco lead him out a back door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see I borrowed from the comics!verses to source an Earth-2 Citizen Cold, who sometimes has powers, and sometimes doesn't .... Comics are awesome, and also very weird. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is healing of all sorts, running, and a traffic report

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. Sorry this is a few days longer than usual for an update. There was much birthday shenanigans for the mister. Sorry about that!
> 
> As ever, you guys are amazing, thank you for the kudos, and comments, I love every one, and I might not reply, believe that whatever it was that you left me, I loved it enough to read it at least twice. 
> 
> I've rejiggered the plot quite a bit from when I started out, I was going to steer clear of dealing with Zoom altogether, but the Christmas episode and the fight was too much of an opportunity to leave on the shelf. So, you have what I have plotted to be three or four more chapters, plus an epilogue.

Chapter 8

It's been a long and grueling two days of intermittent pain, and hovering family, and Barry wants to run so badly. His limbs, his legs, his heart are aching to go out and run, but he can't. To say that the frustration is rising would be an understatement, he's moved on from frustrated to 100 percent done. Joe and Iris are hovering, and Joe especially seems very happy they have the seed of a plan, but Barry can tell he's frustrated about having to wait. Well, he can suck it, because Barry has had enough. 

Cisco however seems to be picking up on his frustration, and like the best bro ever, cuts in. "Hey guys, why don't we let Barry rest? Caitlin's going to do some PT, in a little bit, and I think he's starting to stress out." Cisco grabs his coat, and makes a production of leaving, and Joe and Iris say their goodbyes, and finally leave as well, much to Barry's relief. He texts Cisco a thank you, who texts him back nothing but thumbs up emojis, followed by the speak no evil hear no evil see no evil monkeys and then an obscene emoji gesture made of produce that suggested fucking. And Barry was confused for a few minutes, but had decided to simply ignore Cisco's weirdness, and order take-out for himself and 

Caitlin, when Len waltzed in.

"Ramon says you need a jail break. Far be it for me to not break out my frenemy with benefits. You ready?"

"Uh-" Barry says stupidly, even as his brain goes duh! to Cisco's message. He stands up slowly, still not quite sure if he's ready to trust his back again, and takes a few steps towards Len. "Yeah, sure."

Len walks with Barry to the door. It's slower than usual, but he's not hobbling like he had been even yesterday. "How's the healing up going?"

Barry shrugs slightly, "The pain is better now. Like, when I walk it's more like a dull ache, than pain. My knee is fine, again, and my lung is healed, and my ribs are mostly good. It's really just my back."

"Good to hear. Come on, the cab is waiting, "Len says, stepping out the door, and the uber driver is racing out of the car to open the door, in front of them. Barry sort of hates it, but by the time he's at the end of the pavement, he's grateful to sit again. Len walks around the car and gets in next to Barry, "115 West Grand. WEST."

"You got it," he says, pulling away from the curb. "So, what happened to you, dude?"

"Car accident," Barry answers. "Always buckle up, right? Just had to run into work for a few hours."

"I didn't know people still worked at STAR Labs, even."

Barry grins, "Yeah, there's a few of us. We're working on taking the accelerator apart."

"Good plan."

Barry didn't answer, just leaned into the seat, and looked over at Len, who was patiently watching the scenery go past them, and fidgeting with Barry's fingers. Which was weird, but felt nice. He shifts slightly into Len, who just shifts slightly to resettle - though not away, Barry notes with some pleasure - and goes back to watching the world go by. He wonders if even having the conversation he'd talked to Felicity about, what feels like months ago, is the right thing to do. They don't feel uneasy right now - he looks down at where they're pressed together, subtly but surely, and is just glad. It sucks that shit had to go down to get them here, but he feels like he and Len are solidly back to normal. (Whatever that really means.)

They pull up in front of a row of townhouses, and Barry frowns. "What number is this?" he asks. 

"115," the driver says.

"Zero," Len says, sounding smug, and pleased with his own cleverness. The driver is clearly confused, but he parks the car, and Len helps Barry out, and then stares at the small line of six steps up to the front door. "How's your back?"

"Mostly okay. Why?"

"Stairs. I was gonna just throw your skinny ass over my shoulder and carry you up."

"Len!"

"What? Efficiency, Barry," Len says, shaking his head. He then goes low, and grabs Barry around the waist and hoists him over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I hate you." Barry was more than capable of the six stairs up to the front door, but Barry's learned to spot when Len is doing something he wants to do versus what he thinks he ought to do. Len wants to do this, even if its not strictly speaking necessary, and Barry decides to just go with it. His back isn't even twinging.

"You say that, but what I hear is 'Thank you for saving me from the stairs."

"Uh huh."

Which is when a female voice cuts in full of mirth, "Unhand that poor boy, you knave!"

Barry can't see who's speaking, but she sounds like a woman probably in her sixties. "Shut it, you old bag," Barry hears Len say back even as he adjusts his grip on Barry. Barry gapes at the back of Len's shoulder, which is largely all that he can see in this position. 

"You look better. Who's this?"

"Barry here, is my frenemy with benefits. He's had a small accident and needed a lift. Barry, this is my nosy neighbor, Maggie. Maggie, if it's cool with you, I'm going to take this man inside and ravish him. Cool?"

Maggie cackles, "By all means, Leonard, have your fun. But, do it keep it down. Mister Fartbox does so hate the noise."

Barry snorts, because what the hell kind of name is that for what he assumes is probably a cat? Len slaps him on the ass, a second later startling him. "No promises, but I'll buy him some tuna as an apology."

She heads down the remaining stairs, and gives Barry a wave, who waves back. "Nice to meet you, Maggie!" Barry says, as she walks down the street. From this angle he can see her, a trim woman in a tight grey pants tucked into boots, and a trim black jacket. Her hair is grey - but more silver, and left shoulder length and slightly curled at the bottom, under a very fashionable woolen hat. 

"Come on, Scarlet, we've got some catching up to do."

Barry squeezed Len's butt with his hand, "I'm not sure I'm up for strenuous activity-"

"Who said anything about strenuous activity?" Len said, shifting Barry back down to his feet, where he finds himself standing in a narrow entryway that leads into a beautifully furnished living area. The room itself is sort of bohemian, and sort of industrial, and screams masculinity. Two of the walls are exposed worn brick, and the far wall is green with large inset windows, that stream sunlight into the room. There's a deep navy blue sofa along one wall with a beat up trunk in front of it, repurposed as a coffee table. The wall behind it is covered in beautiful art - photographs of all types - black and white, color, humans, and landscapes, tasteful shadowed nudes in light and dark. 

The far wall is a large working counter, with a laptop, chair, and lamp flanked by a stack of novels, and notebooks. The other side is clearly for a different kind of work - a soldering iron, precision tools, a variety of wires, metal parts, pre-made fuses, and ceramic pieces are scattered across the desk, and collected in a variety of metal bowls that line the side. There are a few different lights, as well as a magnifying glass fitted to an metal arm, and a thing that Barry remembers from middle school shop class as the tool you used to keep something in place when you worked on it. 

There's also a large television, piles of books and a tall stack of DVDs stuffed in a shelf that can't be anything but custom, and even more art on other wall, and all of it seems to fit around Len perfectly. This is his space, not a place to lay low - it's his. 

"Wow. This is - a nice space."

"Yeah, well. Who wants to spend all their time in bare minimum safe houses, eh? You need to eat?" he asks, hanging up his jacket, and helping Barry out of his, when he comes back after his survey of the room.

"Uh, I could?"

Len nods. "Excellent. I'll order something. Why don't you do a few of the stretches that Snow was harping on about. I'm going to run upstairs and change." 

Barry watches him go, the stairs are tucked away behind the door almost, and he realizes that there's also a kitchen in the other direction, he hadn't thought to look in. The kitchen is modest, and standard, and Barry can tell it's not a space that Len is invested in, it's probably in the condition it was when he moved in, minus the cooking requirements.

He pokes through the stack of DVDs and finds classics like Star Wars, and the old school Marvel movies tucked in as well. They're super cheesy compared to the blockbusters that they have now, but that doesn't mean they aren't also classics of genre movies. He has the Lord of the Rings movies, but not the Hobbit ones, and a box set of season 1 of The Wire. A few minutes later Len comes back down, and he has sort of changed, he's still in the shirt he was wearing before, though his usual skinny jeans have been replaced by a pair of soft looking grey loose pants, and his feet are bare. 

"Come on, Scarlet. You want to tackle these stairs?"

Barry looks at the briefly and nods. "Caitlin says it's good for me."

Len gestures Barry to go ahead, and follows his somewhat slow progress up the stairs. Once he's upstairs he can hear the sound of water rushing, and Barry grins, "Shower?"

"Better," Len answers, giving him a smile, and resting his hands on Barry's hips. "You'll see," and he slides his fingers under the edge of Barry's sweater, and tugs it up over his head. "You look better," he says, taking in the healed expanse of Barry's skin. There's no sign of the puncture, or any of the bruises that had littered his skin right after it happened.

"I'm starting to really feel it too. Caitlin says if I'm feeling okay tomorrow, I can get on the treadmill."

Len's left eyebrow raises, "That's good news. Pretty soon I'm going to have you on the mats," he says, dropping the shirt on the ground, and moving for Barry's belt. "And that'll definitely be educational, I'm sure."

Barry nods, but he's still stuck on the fact that it appears Len is stripping him. Because he could totally go for a blowie- or honestly anything that ended in a orgasm. That would be - all the yes - that he could muster. He lets his lover unbutton his jeans, and help him out of them - and then Len stops, straightens up, and pulls him down the hallway.

Barry would like to say he's disappointed, but he so isn't. Because this is not a bedroom, but it's got to be the next best thing. The floor is entirely hardwood - but more like decking than a floor - sealed against water, and partially covered by plush bathroom rugs in white and green. But surely the focus of the room is the huge white soaker tub that is still being filled with water. Because that is going to feel - amazing to sit in. "I should not be so excited about getting in that."

Len grabs a pair of fluffy navy blue towels out of a closet, and sets them on the vanity around the sink. "I think we both understand seeing as I bought it, and installed it. You need a hand in?"

Barry frowns, "I got it," and he tests the water with a hand quickly, and it's the perfect temperature, and this close to the water he can smell some kind of oil or soap has been dumped in because it smells wonderful. He settles himself in the tub, that is absolutely large enough for two, and sighs. "This is amazing."

Len nods, "When the water is at the right level for you, go ahead and shut it off." He leans over, and tips Barry's head up for a kiss. "Relax, but don't fall asleep. I'm going to go call for dinner."

"Not coming in?" Barry asked, slightly disappointed. 

"I've learned my lesson. I feed you, and then I ravish you. You've been warned," and he kisses him once more, lingering, his thumbs caressing his jaw, and Barry grins against his lips. 

"Duly warned, and definitely interested."

"Good," is all he says with a leer, before he ducks out of the bathroom, after hitting a button on a small radio next to the door. 

Barry leans back against the warm tub, and lets the water's warmth, soak into his muscles that have been screaming at him for days, and tightening with tension. 

Len comes back to collect him a while later, and Barry is definitely drowsy, but his body feels so much better, relaxed and content. He definitely needs one of these. "Hey, no sleeping in the tub."

"Not sleeping, just - very comfy and warm. This is amazing."

"Feel a bit better then?"

"Mmhmm," he answers, and then shifts in the tub slightly. "Food?"

"Yeah. I got noodles, and dumplings and sushi."

"Awesome."

Len lends him a t-shirt, hoodie and a pair of loose sweats, and they go downstairs and have dinner in the living room on the sofa. Barry has been feeling his appetite lately again, and puts away a ton of the food, so grateful that Len never forgets to get way too much for two normal people. Barry helps take the dishes to the sink, noting how well he's doing - his back is feeling pretty good, much less sore, and it's nice to be pain free. 

When he returns to the living room, Len is slumped on the couch, his feet on the trunk, and Barry slumps against him, laying his head on his lover's lap, and facing the screen. The game they'd been watching seems to have finished when he was in the kitchen, and Len's channel surfing with annoyed face. Len gives him the questioning eyebrow over X-Men Days of Future Past, and Barry shrugs. They let it run, Barry enjoying the absent threading of Len's fingers through his hair, from time to time, until the scene with Quicksilver when Len looks down at Barry. "Is that what it's like for you?"

"The perception of time - yeah. It's like I have all the time in the world, sometimes. The music doesn't make much sense, to be honest. When I run, most of the time sound gets really distorted. I usually have to stop before I can properly hear Cisco and Caitlin on the comms. I mean, I can hear them but it's hard to understand- super slow." 

"Fascinating. It's an amazing gift. I can't imagine what I would do if I actually could do what - my counterpart does."

Barry frowns, "What difference does powers make versus your gun? You're still Cold. And you're still Len. I know a lot of people don't see it- what it is you do for Central. Maybe I can, because it's the deal we struck - but I can see the benefits of having Captain Cold in our city."

Len shakes his head paired with his best doubtful look, "Don't start thinking I'm a good guy, Barry."

Barry grins, "Babe, I know you. You're not the good guy. I mean, you could be. I truly believe that. You're not rotten, or evil. But, I get it. You're a chaotic neutral, really. A sort of necessary evil, that's not strictly speaking evil. If you want to be," he then prevaricates, because Len is just staring at him. "Am I wrong?"

Len doesn't say anything though, he just slides off the couch, and stands up, holding a hand out to help Barry up. He stands and Len heads up the stairs, hand still gripping Barry's. Barry grins, and follows, noting that he's still feeling pretty pain free, even if he is feeling a bit hungry again. Len leads him to the top of the stairs and down the hall, past the bathroom, and into a bedroom. 

The bedroom is just as beautiful as the living room in the same style. One wall is the same exposed brick as downstairs, though the rest are painted a rich blue, and covered in even more photographs, and interspersed with framed diagrams and floor plans. The bed is the focus of the entire room though, a huge king-sized bed on a raised platform, with a blue, white and grey plaid comforter, a fur blanket of some kind, tossed lazily over half of it, and fluffy white pillows. Len pulls Barry into the room, and then pulls him into his arms, his hands coming up to cup the sides of Barry's neck, and angle his head just the way he wants it for a kiss. 

Barry is thrilled to oblige, and lets Len strip him slowly, peeling him out of his sweater, and trousers, interspersed with slow lazy kisses, as he's slowly backed against the bed. 

"Len."

"Be quiet." And Len gives him a gentle push back into the bed, before peeling his own sweater and undershirt off in a single pull over his head. Barry appreciates the site of Len's stomach, the dark hair leading into his jeans, and the beautiful dance of frost inked into his shoulders and arms, as his hands drop to undo his pants, and pulling them down in a single go, before crawling into the bed. 

Barry isn't sure what to expect, Len isn't usually this - gentle- but he's happy to go with it. Len digs into his side drawer, leaning over Barry, and grabbing a bottle of lube, and a condom, which he tosses into the pillows, and then sits back on his knees, and pulls Barry with a single firm pull, down towards him, and Barry causally wraps his legs around Len's, shifting so their cocks are pressed together, and Len just smirks at him, pupils wide in the low light. Len is staring at him intently, as he licks a wet stripe across his palm before wrapping a hand around their cocks, and Barry groans. Len's cock against his is hot and hard and silken, and the firmness of Len's hard wrapped around them both is divine. "Fuck, Len."

"Not yet, Scarlet, "he says, grinning, and stroking their cocks together a loose fist. 

"Please. I need to come," Barry begs, because it's been - almost two weeks, and he's already embarrassingly close already. 

And Len just stares for a short moment, and then chuckles, and gives him this sexy smirk, and drawls, "How bad?"

Barry thinks he should be embarrassed or concerned in some way that he's willing to behave like this with this man, who on the street is his enemy, but he isn't. "Very, very much. Please."

And it's like Len can read his mind, but it's probably not that, it's likely the last seven months they've spent doing this that tells Len everything he needs to know about what Barry wants, because he shifts back, before leaning forward, and swallowing Barry's cock, once, twice, and then taking him into his throat, before easing up with the most amazingly pressure, and a swipe of his tongue over the head of cock. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock, and Barry is going to die of pleasure. He sinks into the bed, panting, and doing his best to not thrust up unexpectedly, as Len licks and sucks in tandem. The wave is building low in his spine, and he groans, clutching the sheets in his fingers, "So close."

And Len seems to take that as encouragement because he doesn't let up one bit, and a wet finger is pressing just behind his balls, and it's all Barry can do not to scream, as his orgasm crests over him. Barry can feel himself coming, his balls tightening, and he leans up to watch as Len lets Barry's come drip out of his mouth, and back onto his cock, which he then swallows and licks again, and Barry feels his dick twitch in appreciation. Len looks up at him, and Barry sighs, utterly relaxed, "That is so crazy hot."

Len just makes a noise of agreement, before sliding up the sheets, and pulling Barry in for a languid kiss, and Barry can taste himself on Len's tongue, and he clutches at Len, "You want me to-"

"I'm the master of ceremonies tonight, Scarlet. I had to get you off so I could take my sweet time, I could tell. Your back hanging in there?"

Barry nods, "It's fine."

"Excellent," Len purrs. He strokes a hand over Barry's calf, and thigh. "Fuck you look like a wanton little slut, spread out in my bed, ready for anything. Come dripping down your thigh, and not even fucked yet."

Barry can feel himself already starting to get hard again, and he groans, "oh, shit."

"I can tell you want this," Len says, taking his cock in hand, and stroking it lazily, already hard and thick in his hand, and Barry literally feels his mouth water, but it so isn't the time. Len's still talking, even as he reaches for the bottle of lubricant. "I bet you just fucking open on my fingers, huh? Such a good little slut, begging to come, to get fucked," and Barry watches as he pours the clear liquid across his fingers, and coats them liberally.

"Yes!" Barry is desperate for more, and he begs, "Fuck me. Please babe. Please."

And Len just grins down at him and uses his dry hand to tug Barry back into where he wants him, "If you insist."

Barry groans, overcome with a liquid hot pull of want and deep seated pleasure that comes from the ease which he gives himself up to the moment so easily. That drawl is still as hot in the bedroom now as it was the first time he'd heard it in that context, and groans when a slick finger circles his hole, before pushing in slightly. He sighs in deep seated relief as first one finger gently probes him, followed soon by two fingers. 

Barry can feel himself relaxing, his body's natural resistance slowly letting go against the delicious stretch that is - oh fuck yes - three of Len's fingers. The stretch itself is divine, but Len crooks a finger just right, and Barry nearly cries, at the sing of pleasure that his touch sends through him. "Len."

And Len is looking right at him, with a pleased little grin, "Yes, Barry?"

"I'm ready. Please."

And Barry lets his lover guide him onto his side, and he's never fucked like this, but man is it fucking amazing, Len pushes his left leg up slightly to give himself clear access, and Barry hisses at the feeling of slightly chilled lubricant against himself, and he's vaugely aware that Len is sliding a condom on, before he's back, sliding three fingers back into Barry, in and out scissoring before grinning. 

"You look fucking amazing like this, spread out in my bed," Len says, letting his fingers skip and glide down Barry's sides, down to his thighs, before shifting himself closer, and angling himself just right before he slides in one delicious thrust into his lover. 

Barry cries out, but it's not pain, its bone deep satisfaction, and he shifts slightly back against Len, who moans. "Fuck, Barry. You're always so tight. Back okay?"

Barry doesn't answer, just uses his legs to leverage himself back towards Len, who grins, and wraps an arm around Barry's thigh and pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in again, several shallow thrusts, before a single deep hard thrust. 

It's amazing, and it's been weeks, but Barry doesn't think that's why it feels so fucking amazing being in Len's bed. He turns slightly, and Len's eyes are closed tight in concentration and he thrusts into Barry, in a slow rhythm that Barry knows will escalate soon enough. But it also feels like a relief, like coming together after too long apart, separated by disagreement, by injury, and lack of time, and Barry's fingers ache to grab Len, and pull him tight against him, but he's facing away. 

And it's a nice position for a slow lazy mid-morning fuck, but it seems like Len's on the same page as he is, because a few moments later, Len buries himself deep in Barry's body, and groans, "this feels awesome, but I can't get the right angle," and he gestures for Barry to roll with him, and a moment later Barry is on his back, and Len is pulling him back against him, one leg curling around Len's waist, and the other in Len's hands, as he presses it against him, thrusting in, deep and Barry is seeing stars. 

"Oh fuck yes," Len says, thrusting in, and out again, striking his prostate on each thrust. Len is watching Barry, and Barry watches Len right back. It's incredibly intimate but Barry doesn't care, and he throws his head back and keens when Len wraps a hand around his cock and strokes. 

Len's hand seems to take everything up two notches, and he sighs, and then begs, "Yes, yes fuck, yes right there," Barry says, aware he might be babbling. "Right there. Ooh," he moans, and Len grips his thigh tighter in his hand, and Barry could cry, because it's right there, right there, oh shit, and he wants to come so bad, but body won't tip over the edge. "Faster," Barry demands and Len lets out a sound that's half a groan, and half roar, but complies, and Barry uses his legs to thrust back against him, and groans, and then shouts as his orgasm rushes through him, and it's not three thrusts later that Len follows after, with a groan. 

Len continues thrusting shallowly for a few more seconds, before sighing heavily, and letting Barry's thigh drop down to his side, and Barry grins, as Len pulls out, and pulls the condom off with his hand, and drops it over the side of the bed, hopefully into a trash can Barry can't see, and slumping into the bed, and pressing his side into Barry's own. 

Barry turns his head slightly, and Len grins, "Damn, Scarlet," he says, and then pulls him into a kiss, more content than seeking, and Barry lets his hand idly stroke up and over Len's back, and he turns away from the kiss to mouth idly at Len's slightly sweaty shoulders and neck. 

"Christ, don't you go leaving hickeys. I ain't a teenager."

"Mm, wasn't planning on it, but since you went and put the idea in my head--" Barry says, grinning at Len, who just rolls his eyes at him and then pulls Barry against him, and he rolls to his side, and pulls him in close. Barry is content to be the little spoon, even if he is still covered in spunk and lubricant, but he feels the pull of sleep tugging at his consciousness, and somewhere between the lazy pets on his stomach, and chest, and Len pulling the covers up, he's out. 

Barry wakes, clean, warm, and comfortable in the bed, and utterly starving. He slides out from under Len's arm, and down into the kitchen. He's half jogging down the stairs, without even noticing, when he - does. He feels - good. He heads down the rest of the stairs more gingerly, and waits for his body's inevitable punishment a few minutes later, but it never comes.

The pantry is fairly sparse, but the basics are there. Barry eats four slices of toast with butter and jam, and three with peanut butter, before washing it down with far too much milk. He also starts a pot of coffee, and digs a brick out of his jacket pocket that's been there a few days, and is beaten up and squished flat, but he eats it with a grimace or five, but he can't deny it does help curb his appetite. He heads upstairs again, and slides back into bed, and grins when Len's arms snake around him. 

"Where did you go?"

"Had to eat. Also started coffee."

Len hums against his skin, and runs a hand down Barry's torso. "How are you feeling? Sore?"

"Actually," Barry says, a grin on his face as he presses his own hand over Len's, "I feel fine. I know that sounds crazy, when I was a disaster yesterday morning, but I feel like the serum must have finally left. I feel like I normally do."

"Glad to hear it, Scarlet. Go back to sleep."

When he wakes again later, Len is sitting in the bed, sipping coffee, and reading the paper, a pair of black rimmed glasses perched on his face. Barry grins, "I like the glasses. Very hipstery."

"Shut it, Scarlet. Get up, we're going for a run."

Barry frowns, sliding out of the sheets, "A run?"

"You were almost vibrating against me last night. And then after, you were an incredibly restless sleeper. I think you have some energy to burn."

"Caitlin-"

"I'm not talking about a run at whatever speed you zip around the city at. I'm talking about human speeds."

Barry doesn't see why not. His body feels good, and it's been a while since he ran at a more normal speed, and a jog with Len could be interesting. "Okay."

"Excellent. Do you need to eat again?"

"No, I had a brick this morning."

"Then, let's get moving."

***

Len actually loves running. He lends Barry some of his colder weather gear, and pulls on a light hoodie over a pair of regular tights. It'll be enough though, and they set off after a few minutes of stretching.

They head down Grand, and make a right onto Wallace, and Len grins, because there's a diner at the end of Marshall, which they can get to if they stay on Wallace for seven blocks, and then do half a mile north and end up at the diner. They're hoofing it along, and Barry is grinning. 

"This is fantastic," Barry says, at one point halfway down Wallace. 

They're just about ready to turn onto Marshall when Barry slowed to a stop. Len circles back, "Hey- are you okay?"

"Uh," Barry says, and then sprints at Flash speed forward about thirty feet, and then looks back. "I have to run."

And Len grins, "Then run."

And Barry runs back to him, grinning like the world is perfect, and pulls him into a deep searching kiss for all of thirty seconds, before pulling away, "Back soon." 

Len watches as his lover turns into a blur of yellow lightning trailing behind him, and grins. He decides, after a moments of indecision to press on, and do at least another few miles, adjusts his track to simply do a larger loop, and pulls his phone out of his flipbelt. It's going to drain the crap out of his battery, but he tunes it to the radio app, and turns the volume up. He hears three quarters of a Beastie Boys song, and the entirety of a new release he doesn't recognize before it tunes back to the morning show, and they play a commercial for Big Belly Burger, and then cut to the traffic report. 

He's just running down the short cut alley between Marshall and Maple when he hears the woman that reports traffic interrupt herself to giggle, and then say, "But, I suppose the best traffic report I could pass on this morning, comes from the traffic helicopter, who reports having seen Central City's Scarlet Speedster racing though midtown not five minutes ago. Breathe easy Central City, and leave time to cross the Midtown Bridge- there's a five minute delay for a disabled vehicle, and all trains are currently running on or close to schedule. That's all from Traffic from KCCR."

Len comes to a slow halt, and leans against the side of a building feeling slightly - overwhelmed. He's not smiling, not on the outside, but he can feel the pleasure bubbling up in his insides, and texts Barry.

BA: [07:21] CC thrilled their speedster is back. You made the traffic report. 

He knows it's pride that's risen up inside him. Barry's made it back to where he needs to be, and he's whole again, and it feels good. Len isn't even entirely whole again, still feeling the chill that seems to have settled into his bones, and occasional tweaks of pain from his still healing ears, but the kid made it. The kid that Len has increasingly less and less ability to deny, and more and more invested in keeping in one piece, not just keeping Central City from being destroyed. He'd known it was a lie when he'd brought made suggestions to help him deal with Zoom. Now it just feels like he's losing his hold on his ability to deny it.  
So screwed. 

He adjusts his shirt, and tucks his phone back into his belt. He needs quiet to sort his brain out as he pounds the three miles of pavement back to his home. He tells himself firmly that he has to keep this locked down. No comprising himself to Barry's ideals. No skipping Rogues business to deal with Zoom. No slipping and telling him anything about how he feels. 

He can do this. He must do this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is plotting, fighting, and rules broken on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't apologize more for how long this has taken to get out. It's longer than usual- I couldn't seem to find a place to cut it shorter, and I had some issues trying to find a place to cut away from the canon - but I've completely plotted the rest out. (Seriously you have no idea how thrilled I was when Killer Frost was able to but the breaks on Zoom!!) 
> 
> As always, you guys are the best -- thank you for all your thoughtful comments, and the kudos. I appreciate every single one of them. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine

It's been a few days of random text updates from Cisco about his work on the cold field generator and plans to upgrade to the suit to include more than the therma-threads that had been put in earlier that year. So, when his phone pings with an incoming message, he's just expecting another update. His brow curls in surprise and concern at the message he's received from Patty.

DET Spivot [09:20]: Hey Barry, can I drop by this AM to discuss something?

To DET Spivot [09:21] I'll in the lab unless I get called out. 

Cisco [09:24] Yo man, come by tonight. I have prototypes that I need to test.

To Cisco [09:26] Awesome. 7? I'll bring dinner. Text me what you want.

Joe [09:45] Dinner tonight?

To Joe [09:46] Cisco has something for me. I'm going to be at STAR Labs all night.

Joe [09:47] Then tomorrow we're having breakfast. 

To Joe [10:05] Sure! 

Barry puts his phone in a drawer after sending the last text and gets to work. He has a number of samples he needs to work through, and a stack of fingerprints that need to be scanned and run through the database, but if the samples have to run through the mass spectrometer, he should get the first one going.

He's got the first sample running, and three of the sets of finger prints scanning through the databases, and is getting started on a backlog of reports that need to be reviewed and filed from before his - accident, when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. 

He turns, and finds Patty is standing in his office looking - well, she looks extremely nervous. Her expression is wary, and her shoulders are slightly hunched in a way that says she's protecting herself, and she's twisting her fingers nervously. It's not a look he's ever seen on her before, and it doesn't suit her usual sunny disposition. "Hey, Detective, what's up?' he asks shooting her a grin, hoping it'll help her relax.

"So, this morning I was at Jitters getting a cup of coffee on my way into work." Barry raises an eyebrow, unsure as to how this is important, and she looks even more nervous, biting her lip before speaking again, "And I may have saw you kiss your boyfriend- you got off his bike and then - talked for like thirty seconds and then -" She clears her throat, like the memory is a little distracting, and that's sort of flattering, maybe? "But, I mean, I didn't know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to out you or anything. I can't say I'm sorry hard enough. But, Joe and I got called in to a scene, they found a body down on the docks, and we were just talking."

"Uh huh," Barry says, horribly sure knows where this was going. 

"And I may have said, that you and your boyfriend were really cute together. And Joe was - surprised. And I realized he might not have known- that you were -" she trails off, looking upset. "I'm so sorry."

Barry sighs, "You couldn't have known. It's okay. I can handle it." He runs his hands through his hair, and shrugs. "It was bound to happen eventually."

She frowns, and sits in an empty chair. "You know, Joe's a really good guy. I don't think he will care if you're gay, or bi."

Barry frowns, "Huh? No! I didn't think that. He knows I'm bi. I dated a guy in college for a while. I just - it's a really complicated relationship. And, I mean, it's not meant to be serious? Which is hard to explain to your parent- that you're basically just sleeping with someone for no particular reason."

Patty frowns, "So, why do it?"

"I'm still - the lightning really did a number on me. And, I'm still getting my bearings, as it were. But - I can handle uncomplicated. There's no weird expectations, no rules about how I'm supposed to be, or act, or worrying about choosing the perfect dates, that always seem to come along with relationships. And, Joe still thinks that me and Iris should get together."

"Really?" Patty asked, curious. 

"Yeah. I mean, he liked Eddie, and I did too. And I was happy that they were happy together - and he was good to her. So, I put the piece of me that loved her away. And she's still grieving. She's subtle about it, but sometimes she goes quiet, and I know she's thinking about him." He shrugs, because it's all true, and he hadn't expected to say half of that, but he figures it's okay. Patty is, by all accounts, trustworthy and kind. She's a lovely woman, and pulls out some delightfully nerdy enthusiasm about metas sometimes. The fact that she'd felt so horrible about what happened spoke volumes. He chuckles, and gives her a little grin, "And - he's so hot, right?"

Patty chuckled, "Well, I didn't get a good look, but he certainly cut a figure on the bike, and the leather, and the boots."

"God, I know," Barry answers, thinking about it, and then shaking himself out of his reverie, "Anyway, thanks for the heads up, but- no apology necessary."

She grins, and then looks around the lab, "I'll let you get back to it. It looks like you're pretty busy. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Barry gives her a genuine smile, "Thanks, Patty."

He lets her go, and takes a slow deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face, and then putting aside everything but science. He can and will worry about this later, but right now he has work to do. 

***

Len wants to be pissed off about being summoned to STAR Labs, but he'd gotten himself involved, he's going to have to live with the consequences - even if that means he's going to get stupid text messages from Cisco Ramon at all hours. He knows that the moment he's seen fighting with the Flash he's going to have to do a ton of damage control, but he can maybe spin it just right. 

When he gets there Barry hasn't arrived yet, but Cisco lets him in. He's finishing up with the suit that's been fit onto a dummy, and sucking on a lollipop as he works. "So, dude, what's it like dating Barry? Cuz, like, he's totally my awesomest bro, but he's always soo-" he says, with a gesture that seems to imply him leaving. 

"We're not dating, Cisco."

Cisco gives him a disbelieving look, and Len wants to rub his face into the newly cleaned leather just to shut him up. "Dude, you apparently go to hockey games, and like, took him home when he was definitely too messed up to have any sexy fun times. Like, what did you think you were doing?" he asks, his purple lollipop now in his hand. 

"None of your concern," is all he answers, before giving up and walking out of the cortex, and into the lab space. He knows god dammit, that he's in over his head, just like he knew he would be. He's already taking steps to back away slightly, he's got Mick and Lisa looking for a few target. A heist would make him feel more like himself, surely. 

He tinkers with a few things in the room, all the while aware that Cisco is staring at him. He picks up a few bits of wire, and strips them efficiently, a timeworn ability, he's been  
doing it since he was a kid nearly, but he'd perfected his ability in the few years he and Lisa had spent in and out of university classes in Coast City - after the skating, before they made Central City their permanent home, before all but one of his stints in prison. There's no records of him attending, he's not that stupid. He likes that people underestimate him - assume that he's an uneducated high school drop out that likes to rough house and steal and little else. It makes them stupid, and he's anything but. 

No, his retirement plan is Leonard Miller, it's a perfectly average name, and no one pays any attention to it. He has off-shore investments, and legitimate income for patents he'd worked on in school, and files taxes every year, and he has a degree in electrical engineering. He's not a genius with it like Cisco clearly is, but he can certainly hold his own. He spends a while in there on his own, when Cisco comes in. 

"Hey man, I just - I didn't want to be a jerk, I just worry."

Len just shrugs, "I'm aware that I'm in over my head. I just haven't figured out what to do about it," he says, deciding to at least be honest with the guy that's going to hand him a new cold weapon in a few minutes. 

Cisco isn't given a moment to respond, because in the next moment, Barry runs into the room with a gust of wind, and that fucking guileless smile. "Hey, sorry I'm late. We gonna do this?"

Cisco grins back, "Hell yeah, we're gonna do this! Get in the suit."

Downstairs, Len is given a small device that activates by remote. "You can place it, or throw it, or whatever options are available. All you have to do is hit this," he says, handing him a small device that has a red and a green button on it. "The green will activate it, and the red will turn it off. It should create an area of effect, where - it's not absolute zero like your gun, that's not really sustainable outside of the beam - no one would survive that - but it's going to be pretty damned uncomfortable. I upgraded Barry's suit to help him combat the cold during the fight. You're going to have to get the hell out of there, or let me mod your parka."

"I don't think so," Len says, fairly certain that that much interaction is too far. 

"Dude, you'll freeze to death."

"I ain't one of you do-gooders. I'm not a goddamned hero. "

"Whatever Jayne, I'm not going to give you a toy that will kill you, without any protection. Call it a favor for my friend, she at least wouldn't be pleased."

Fuck Cisco anyway for bringing Lisa into this but he sighs, "Fine. But, you ruin it, I'll kick your ass."

Cisco grins and takes the jacket from him, and when Barry comes back out in the suit, it looks exactly the same. "What's different?"

Cisco grins, "So, the therma-threading has been more fully embedded - into all of the seams, and around the neckline. The primary therma-plate got a boost, and new therma-plates were installed in the boot soles, there's one at the small of your back, and smaller ones in the thighs, and in the reinforced areas at your knees and elbows. I'm not 100% sure that'll be enough for a long term exposure. If it was the cold gun, you'd be good to go in like ten seconds once activated, but that's why we're testing it. Will you pull the cowl up?"

Barry grins, and then does, and Len is shocked, because it's covering so much more now. The mask covers basically everything, and the masking around his eyes is different, and plated behind lenses not unlike his own. "Wow," Barry says, and it comes through a built-in modulator. "This is definitely more."

And Len cannot fault Cisco for thinking of so much. He's going to have to figure out how train Barry with the lenses though, which- he assumes he can probably manage. "Cisco, can you throw together a pair of goggles for Barry for training? If he's going to find from behind lenses, he needs to train with them."

"Sure, yeah. That's a good idea. I'll whip something up tonight." 

And Len wonders is Cisco is also a master tailor, because clearly he makes all the suits, and that's not an easy job. It's an interesting thought for another time. For today, they head downstairs, and Cisco sets the cold device up in an area far from the central observatory they seem to have built, with some computer consoles, staged up away from the main floor. The detonator is a simple remote that looks not unlike a keyfob for a car. Barry is standing on the main floor, nearby, and Len can see the tension in his limbs that suggests he's ready to run at any moment. 

"You ready?" Cisco asks, looking down at Barry, but speaking through the radio. 

"Hit it Cisco."

And Cisco presses the fob, and it's a stunning nearly immediate change. From all around the device, the moisture in the air condenses into a cold mist, and Barry takes off running towards it. He can see the suit begin to glow - Cisco's activated the thermathreading. "How you feeling?"

"Weird," is what Barry says, but he's continuing to move through the field, slower, but not frozen in the field. "But, I'm okay. I'm cold - but it's not like when I take a cold bolt."

"I'm gonna turn the threads down, just so we can see if it's effective in the first place, okay? The second you start to feel affected, you need to exit the field. You hear me?"

"As soon as it starts, get out."

"Good. Turning off in - five - four - three- two - off." And it's clear, the lightning in the field stops, and a moment later Barry staggers out of the area, and then runs back at normal speed towards them. He slides the cowl up and over his head and he's grinning like an idiot. "Cisco, that was great! When you turned it down, it was almost instantaneous - I could definitely feel myself start to slow down."

"But it's a physiological reaction, not a disconnection from the speed force. I'm - I don't want to test anything like that, if I can help it. Harry might have been happy to do that, but look where that got us."

"No disagreement here," Barry replies, and Len can't agree more. He's starting to understand the basics of Barry's abilities, which seem to include him tapping into something outside of himself called the speed force, not just being super fast. 

Cisco nods. "I'll work on the specs, and your parka tonight," Cisco says, packing up his tool kit that he'd brought with him,. "Let's leave it at a successful test."

Which is when a slow clap sounds in the room and Cisco instantly looks pissed, as a man that looks like Harrison Wells wanders over, from the door. This is clearly the evil sequel as Barry calls him. "Bravo, Mister Ramon."

"Fuck you, Harry."

"No, it's a good plan, too bad no one thought to consult me."

And Len has had enough, "Maybe you should wonder why," he says, walking closer. "Because, I'm not even part of this team, but even I can see that you're not right. No, I can see it in your face, you don't care about these people. You care about your agenda."

"Oh, and you do, Captain Cold? You can't tell me you don't want to steal Mister Ramon's new device."

"Oh, I really do. But, I'm not lying about it. And your last attempt to help left Barry broken, and unable to heal for days. So, I ask you, what help have you been?"

"Oh," Wells says, grinning. "This is fascinating. Did you know, in my world you're-"

"Does who I am in another world, mean anything here? I very seriously doubt it. Shut your running commentary, and either pony up with something useful, or at least do us all a favor, and shut the hell up."

Cisco just laughs, and Wells glares, and turns on his heel, and leaves. Barry sighs, "I'll see if I can get him back on track, with the plan to close the other breeches."

Which is the first Len's heard of it, but it's a good plan. "Don't trust him."

"We don't," Cisco answers, taking a ripping bite out of a twizzler that has appeared from who the hell knows where. "Well. I'm taking the coat, and going home to work. Night, lovebirds."

And Len is left standing there, angry at Wells for being a shit, and even more angry at himself for once again getting even more involved. "I'm going home," Len says. "I'll text you tomorrow."

Barry is giving him a look, but Len just can't face Barry tonight. He can't take him home and fuck him, and not have it turn into something else. No. He needs to go home and find out how their plans for the heist are, and buy Hartley a drink at Saints and see if he can work on a cold bomb. "Promise."

And Barry just nods, and Len is grateful that he lets him go. 

He spends the night at Saints with his rogues. Shawna is there, flirting with a guy who had come in to drown his sorrows, and Hartley is chatting up a cute boy that has wandered in, probably with the express purpose of flirting with Hartley from the cautious looks he's shooting everyone else at the bar. Vi is grinning at him from the bar, and he wanders over with a mostly empty bottle. 

"Look at this," she says, "You've gone and turned my bar into a den for yourself, I see."

"That a problem?" Len asks, finishing off the glass. 

"Did I say it was?" she snarks back, a hand on her hip. "Another?" She pours another, and places it in front of him with a frown. She picks up the empty, and places it in the tray under the bar to take back to the kitchen. "You gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

He sighs, "Not here. After close?"

She nods, and leaves him to his beer. At four thirty, he's mostly sober, and staring at the ceiling above Vi's bed. She's laying next to him, and patiently waiting for him to find a way to say what he wants to say, and he rolls over, and faces her. "I went and fell for that goddamned kid, and I'm so screwed. "

"Lenny-"

"And it would so easy to let him just be everything. But I can't. I won't be me anymore, if I let him in too deep. I just know it."

Vi frowned, "Why would that happen? Does he try and change you?"

Len shook his head. "Not overtly? He hasn't asked."

"Then maybe he accepts the way you are. Maybe you're just borrowing trouble. I've known you for a long time, Lenny. I remember your old man, and how he treated you and Lisa. How you took care of that girl. Maybe he's not changing you. I know you're a thief, and a scoundrel, but you're also the guy that fought hard for his sister's future. Maybe he's just showing you things you don't want to see."

"I'm not a hero."

Vi chuckled, "No. But you're not a villain. Cold, or no."

What had Barry called him -- chaotic neutral - and it had felt - right. It had felt like understanding. "I know," he says quietly, more to himself. He knows that deep down he's not his father. His father was evil, he stole, hit, and he hurt people with not a care for their lives, or livelihoods, only himself. Len stole, it was a delicious thrill - adrenaline, and the rush of success, the camaraderie of his brotherhood of Rogues. Their family was getting bigger, Lisa and himself, and Mick - who wasn't blood was sure as hell would storm hell with him for his cause. 

They'd risked Caitlin, and Cisco, to fight Barry, and now he'd risk what to protect Barry? He sighs heavily, "I don't know what to do," he admits. "He looks at me like I'm good, but I'm not. I'm not lost, but do I need to be someone else?"

Violet wraps an arm around him, and kisses the back of his head, "You should only ever be you, Len. If he loves you the way you are, then you're a lucky man. If he only loves what he thinks you should be, then you should let him go. I've seen the way that boy looks at you though. I think he'll surprise you. Now, we're gonna fucking sleep, and I'll kick your ass out in the morning like yesterday's trash, and we won't talk about this again."

He sighs, "Thank fuck."

"Indeed," is all she says, before rolling over and taking most of the covers with her. 

Len lays there for a while longer sleepless, before drifting off, thinking idly about what on earth Cisco is going to do to his parka. 

***

Barry is only slightly late to breakfast the next morning. When he gets to the West house, it's only ten after seven, and Joe and Iris are in the kitchen talking quietly over coffee between themselves. "Hey," Barry says, stepping into the kitchen, and putting on his best innocent face, "good morning. What's for breakfast?" he asks, making a beeline for the coffee pot. 

Iris grins at him, and answers, "pancakes! They're in the oven. You hungry?"

Pancakes are delicious, but he needs to put away like twenty just to make a dent in his early morning hunger pains, and he wishes he'd thought to eat half a brick at least before leaving this morning, but he'd been running late, and passed on it. "Starved."

They take the tray of pancakes out of the oven, and it's a pleasant breakfast until they're about three quarters finished, and Joe says, "So, Patty says your boyfriend is cute."

Barry stares down at his plate. They're delicious, with a bit of vanilla in the mix, and a zested orange. He's covered them in jam and whipped cream, and it's a caloric nightmare but he's not worried about it. But he's pretty sure he's not going to eat another bite. He puts his fork down and sighs. "Did she?"

"You gonna explain why you're keeping this guy a secret?"

Barry puts his fork down, and shrugs, "Because it's not serious?"

Iris frowns, "What does that mean exactly?"

Barry distinctly remembers her not asking any questions about his fuckbuddy months ago, and Joe and Patty have handed her carte blanche to be as nosy as she wants now. "It means it's not a commitment. That it's a relationship that we have because it's convenient?"

"Is that -" Iris pauses before continuing, "healthy?"

Barry shrugs, "It's fine. There's no expectation of anything, there's no need to fret date choices, or fake excuses to leave for Flash business. It's just sex, and sometimes food, or movies, or we'll watch a hockey game."

"And does anybody know this - person?"

"Cisco and Caitlin."

And Joe's eyes narrow, "And we don't? Barry -"

"Look the only reason they know is because he saw Zoom drag what he thought was my body around Central City, and demanded to know if I was alive."

Iris frowns, "Barry, we spent a lot of time at STAR Labs after your accident. There wasn't anybody else there."

Barry chuckles, "Oh, there was. Cisco is surprisingly sneaky, and also kind. And you guys were apparently bickering, and Cisco snuck out and let him into a side room, and hooked him up with a video feed so he could keep an eye on me. And when you guys left, he stayed until surgery, and came back a bunch of times."

Iris nods, "Well, that was nice of Cisco. But - that doesn't sound like just someone you're having if off with, Barry. That sounds like a relationship. Except - why are you keeping it a secret? You know, we don't care that it's a guy right? We liked Alex."

Alex had been his boyfriend during sophomore year of college. It hadn't worked out, he'd done a semester of study abroad and the distance had killed it. "I know. It isn't that. What if you like him? He's not my boyfriend. He's not someone I'm going to marry someday, and settle down with - adopt a kid and a dog with. That's - never going to happen. And, with Alex, I didn't know that. So, I let you guys meet him, get to know him. And all us were disappointed when it didn't work out. And I'm not doing that again. He doesn't get to be part of our lives - like that."

Barry stared at the tabletop for a long moment before continuing, "He found out who I was - a while ago. And, it made it - almost risk free. He knows who I am, and what I do, and there's no questions about why I'm late, or where I had to go, or why I'm keeping secrets. And he's brave enough to do this - knowing I have enemies. That's - more than I can ask. I can't risk someone else, an innocent civilian, or even a person like Patty being a pawn against Zoom, or anyone else just for me."

"Barry, you know this can't be good for you. Living your life like every enemy is going to try and ruin your life. We know that the Reverse Flash -"

"This isn't about him. Not specifically. But think about it - it's because of me that my father has no wife, and no livelihood. It's because of me that Ronnie died. It's because of me that Eddie died. I can't do that to someone else. I can't be the reason someone else ends up dead, because they loved me, or wanted to help. So, I worked out an arrangement with someone who isn't going to go and grow feelings, and get attached. That's all it is," he says, pushing back from the table. "I'll see you later."

He knows that everything he just told his family was - it wasn't a lie, it had been their starting truth. But the current truth was - that things weren't that simple between them anymore. Barry isn't certain, but he has an inkling that the older man has developed at least some feelings for him. He cared enough to come and check on him after he'd had his ass handed to him by Zoom. He'd cared enough to give him breaks from STAR Labs, to feed him, to help him in his plan to stop the speedster. He took him to his own home, not a safe house, and didn't immediately kick him out whether morning sex was on the table or not. 

And Barry knows he's changed as well. He can see all the good things that make Len more than just Captain Cold. He can see the love and care he has for his sister, but that had always been evident. But now he knows about his friendship with Vi, and his crazy next door neighbor. That he's so much smarter than his credentials, and that he cares with his entire heart. That he's changing, or maybe it's Barry himself that's changing but he feels like their stakes at extreme opposites of some spectrum are slowly migrating inwards towards each other. 

It's heady - exciting, and unpredictable, and so worth all the trouble that is may cause in the future. If he has to keep lying about whatever relationship he and Len have then he's damned well going to. It's potential is worth far too much to just give up the moment it gets difficult, or inconvenient. There's no telling where they'll end up, or how it'll go, but he wants to find out. And if that means freezing his family out of his love life, so be it. 

He's early for work for the first time probably ever, and gets to work. The text comes late in the morning.

Booty Call [11:28]: Renzo's. 7 PM. Be there. Eat first. 

Barry has to google it, but Renzo Miritzi's is a gym not too far from Number Five that specializes in MMA fighting. He texts back that he'll be there, and then does his best to not worry about it for the rest of the day. He spends five through six thirty helping out Central as The Flash, before stopping to cram a ton of food down, and heading to the gym. He'd packed a gym bag on his lunch break, so he didn't have to run to his apartment.

The guys outside the gym are all muscle, and more than a little intimidating, but no one is rude about the skinny geeky kid walking in, in corduroy pants, a cardigan and converse. Inside smells like bleach, and sweat. He changes in the locker room quickly into a pair of tripolymer pants that Cisco had made him - last night apparently. "I was thinking about it, and if you're training in the googles, you should probably train in the suit, but that's really obvious, so just the pants. Cool, right? I made them in black for - you know, reasons. Have fun getting beat up!" 

He pulls on a tight tank top, because surely dangling clothes is a bad idea, right - and lets the goggles dangle around his neck. Barefoot seems to be the rule, so he brings his sneakers just in case, but doesn't put them on. He wanders around a moment, until he sees it. 

Len is in one of the rings, leaning against the post, and chatting with a guy. He's wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, and he's just radiating casual confidence. It's fucking attractive as hell, and he walks up, grinning, "Hey there, gorgeous."

Len's eyes flick down, and he smirks, "Now now, Scarlet, there's plenty of time for that later. Get your ass in here."

He scrambles up, and into the ring, and the guy that he'd been chatting to, just gives them a nod, and leaves. It doesn't take ten minutes before the place is deserted. "Did you buy out the gym?"

"Just for the evening. Rules. First rule - no speed. Second rule - there are no other rules. I can't teach you everything you really need to know to be a good fighter, that's going to take time, but we can at least - get you on the right path, and anything you learn is more than you have now."

"Okay."

Len throws him a pair of gloves, and Barry pulls them on quickly, and then Len adjusts them tighter. "I don't heal the way you do, so I'm going to ask you to not hit my ears, okay?"

"Of course!" Barry says, and then frowns. "Promise."

"Come at me," he says, and Barry frowns. 

"Just like, punch you?"

"Sure."

Barry frowns, and then does, and Len backs up, avoiding it neatly. "First, we're going to work on your form. You consistently rely on your arm and your shoulder to punch. If you twist your hips, you'll get more power. When you're fighting most metas, and other humans, with your speed, it's probably enough, but if you're going to fight someone just as fast as you, you're going to need to be a better fighter. Watch me," he says, and he pulls back, like he's going to punch, and let's his body twist, and then follow through, extending his arm so Barry can see the motion. "You see the difference?"

"Yes."

Len waves him on, "Let's see it then."

Barry gives it a go, and Len corrects him a few more times, before grinning. "Good. That's out of the way, it's been driving me nuts. Now, we're going to just have a go. I want to see what you can manage. You can use your feet, your teeth, your arms, your elbow, I don't care. Put your goggles on, and try and take me down."

Barry wishes he even knew what to do first, but instead he just attempts to land a punch, but Len dodges that easily enough, and tags Barry in the side with a fist. Barry frowns, and then turns and attempts to score again, and Len is just grinning. "Come on, I thought you've been fighting bullies since you were a kid. Surely you learned a few things."

"Yeah, school yard stuff."

"Did it work?"

"Sometimes."

"Then use it, Scarlet."

And so Barry goes for it. It's not anything regimented, or even reasonably proper about the fight, it's more like school yard scrapping, but Len seems to be into it, and they're landing blows one each other occasionally, and Len scores a hit on his eyebrow with his elbow that hurts like hell for a few moments before it starts to heal. They go at for a bit longer, before Len calls it. They've both scored a few hits, and Barry's eyebrow has stopped bleeding, and Len's lip is bleeding slightly, but he seems to be thrilled by it. 

"Not horrible, but not great. There's a kickboxing class here on Wednesday nights. You should go. Renzo can teach you properly how to properly kick someone's ass. But for now, I at least have an idea of what you can do. It's not all dire - to my great surprise. Let's talk about anticipating-"

They go through a lot of exercises - trying to track body movements to anticipate your opponents next move, taking a hit, and finally Barry slumps against a post, and says, "Babe, I'm done," and he flops against the mat. When Len sits next to him, Barry points at him, "And don't you say, Zoom won't tell you when you're done. I know that- but-"

"But you're done for today."

Barry just nods, "So done."

"Excellent," Len says, before pouncing on him. Barry really hadn't seen that one coming. He rolls with Len's momentum and attempts to throw him off. 

"I thought we were done," Barry says, attempting to get away. 

And Len just gives him a smirk, and slides his hands up Barry's sides, and around to angle his face just right before diving in for a kiss. They're both sweaty, and slightly bloody, and slightly smelly, and Barry doesn't care -- but the mats are going to be covered in sweat, blood, and god only knows what else. "We can't do this here. All my work brain is telling me is how much filth is on these mats. Please."

"Yours?"

Barry grins, "Sure."

It's halfway across town, but on the bike it's not a long trip, and Len practically shoves Barry through the door, in a rush to get him into the bedroom. They rush into the bedroom, and Len rushes to get him naked before shoving him into the bed, and all momentum seems to crash. Barry is keyed up, his blood is rushing in his veins, and all he wants is Len's hands or mouth or anything on him, anywhere. He's painfully hard, and he can feel the slight cool wetness of precum that's smeared onto his stomach. But Len is just staring at him in the sparsely lit room. "What?"

Len just shakes his head, "Do you even know how fucking gorgeous you are like this?" he asks, shuffling closer to the bed, and grabbing hold of his thighs, and tugging him closer to the end of the bed. "Naked, and hard, and doe eyed, all directed right at me. Fuck, Scarlet, you're a goddamned vision."

Barry most certainly had not been expecting this. They'd fought and scrapped, and gotten in a few knocks and Len actually has a few reddened areas on his abs that might turn into bruises, and he'd been expecting to come home to rough, aggressive, dirty filthy sex, and in the twenty minutes since leaving the gym, Len appears to have flipped on a dime to something else. Something that wants, and appreciates, and is not in that headspace at all. Unexpected or not, Barry can roll with it, and he grins up at Len. "You should have a look in the mirror, some time." 

Len scoffs, but Barry insists, "What? Your body is a work of art, literally. And, frankly, I would eat just about anything off your abs."

"Not tonight, I don't think."

Barry squints, and then grins, because this - this is Len asking for something. He doesn't want to come out and ask for anything, so he's going to dither and take his time and see if Barry gets a clue. Well -- all the fucking yes. Barry grins, and shifts up on his elbows, "No? Something else in mind? Because, I had something else in mind."

And Barry knows right down to his bones that he's gotten it right, because Len's eyes widen, and the smirk turns into something else - pleased and hiding it behind a bland smile, 

"Did you now?"

Barry shifts and settles his hands firmly on Len's hips. "Mmhm," he says, sliding a hand around, and squeezing Len's ass firmly. "I'm gonna fuck you into the mattress. Key you up, and take you apart, until you could fucking cry it feels so good. You game?"

"That's a pretty ambitious plan."

Barry grins back, because it is. Len isn't prone to asking for this. He's only topped a handful of times in the seven months they've been together, so Barry likes to make it count - to make sure that when they're done Len is nothing but satisfied. "I'm up for the challenge."

Len grins. "By all means, then."

Barry can't help but laugh, sometimes Len is just so - contained, all himself all the time, with answers that mean a lot but sound blasé, and his penchant for deflecting, unable to say what he wants, but taking anything he wants when he can. It's an interesting contradiction that Barry has gotten to see only in moments like these. Len lets Barry maneuver him into a comfortable position in the bed, propped up on a mountain of pillows under his chest and hips, and he moans loudly the first time Barry spreads his cheeks, and buries his face between them, licking a wide hot stripe over his ass. Barry grins and bites his cheek slightly, "Nice, huh?"

Len makes a noncommittal noise of agreement, and Barry grins, "Yeah, I know it was," and he leans down, and does it again. Len isn't as vocal this time, but Barry can tell from the way he drops his head into his forearms, that he's into it, surrendering to the sensation. He licks, gently, and with harder pressure, squeezing the flesh of Len's ass in his hands. 

"Fuck, babe, you're so hot like this, spread out in front of me," he gives Len's cheek a squeeze and a tap, and lets his thumb circle Len's hole gently, pressureless, just letting Len soak in the sensation, before replacing his thumb once again with his tongue. 

Len is squirming against the pillows, desperate for friction, or contact or escalation, and Barry backs away, letting his hands trail down the back of Len's long longs, tracing swirls over the muscles of his calves, and then back up his thighs, over his ass, and spreading his hands out as he slides over the hard muscle and beautifully inked skin of Len's back and shoulders. "Barry, stop fucking around, and start fucking," Len barks. 

Barry ignores him, taking his time letting his fingers, trace the lines of Len's tattoo, and over the sensitive patches on his sides, and hips. "I will. Impatient. You challenged me first, babe."

"Uh huh," Len says, all sarcasm, and Barry slaps his bottom playfully. He follows the slap with a kiss though, and then migrates back for a few more lingering kisses and swipes of his tongue over, and into Len, and he can feel the give in his muscle slightly against his tongue. He presses a finger against his rim, and grins when he slides into the first knuckle easily, eased by spit and the slight relaxation of muscle. Len lets out a little mmm of pleasure at the intrusion. "It's so good, right? That first breech, it's like all the promises of what's to come, but it also just feels so damn satisfying, doesn't?"

Len is nodding and Barry wiggles his finger slightly, before gently withdrawing and leaning over Len's prone body to grab the lubricant off his nightstand. He drizzles a generous amount onto his hands, and Len's ass, and rubs it in gently, knowing that Len is probably enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid against already sensitive skin. He sinks his finger back into his lover, and Len sighs, and Barry draws the finger out, only to push back in, slowly, letting his body get used to the slight stretch. The escalation to two fingers never takes too long, and before long he's got his two first fingers buried deep in his lover, ever so barely skirting the spot that made Len moan in pleasure. "Fuck you're beautiful, stretched around my fingers, moaning for more. You want more?"

"Yes," is all Len says, his voice wavers slightly, and Barry is thrilled with himself, pulling out of him entirely, before very slowly pushing in again with a third finger. Len sighs, and Barry can tell he's enjoying it, and he takes half a moment to take in the sight before deciding that if they're going to be fucking, it's not going to be like this. 

When Len seems ready, Barry cajoles him onto his back, tossing half the pillows on the floor, and leaning in for a kiss. He reaches under his mattress and grabs the box of condoms, and grabs one and tosses it back onto the floor. He has the condom only quickly, and turns his focus back to Len, who has apparently been watching him, idly stroking his cock. He sits back on his heels, and shoos Len's hands away, taking his cock in his own hand, and squeezing gently, before giving it a cursory stroke. Len is watching him, and Barry shifts, pulling his knees underneath him, before asking, "It's okay, right- this way?" Barry asks. Len nods in response, and Barry shuffles forward, applying more lubricant and pulling Len into the position he wants him in, closer to him, legs bent into his chest, and fully in Barry's line of vision. He can see where his dick is slowly disappearing into Len's body, so hot and tight and amazing around him. "Oh shit, babe, you feel amazing. So good," Barry babbles, momentarily lost in the sensation that is Len's body. "Fuck yes," he says as he pushes in the last inch, and Len groans, throwing his head back into the pillow. 

It's just - sex- for a while - the mechanics are the same in a variety of positions, but at some point - the atmosphere changes, and the eye contact moves from check-ins to intense, and the kisses turn from heated cursory connections to, lingering, and momentary as the escalation really begins. They're two separate beings, but the connection is intense, and they push and pull at each other at a steady but increasing tidal force, as they chase their own orgasms. Something is different, something maybe new, and Barry pulls most of the way out of his lover, before thrusting back in, a slow easy slide, and Len groans, because Barry must have gotten him into just the right angle. He has to bite his tongue against all the things he wants to say. 

You're beautiful like this, not just giving yourself up to me, but lost in us, wide eyes and nerves on display, but all in anyway. 

I could lose myself in this, in us. Just, give up everything - just to be Len and Barry in this place, you and me against the world. He knows this is inaccurate but the thought runs through his mind unbidden. 

If I thought you might catch me, I'd fall for you between one heartbeat and the next.

Barry wraps a hand around Len's cock, and strokes to the same rhythm, and catches Len's gaze, "Come for me."

And Len groans, and shifts, setting his own pace, and Barry moans as the change of pace and angle draw him closer to coming, but fuck it feels so good anyway, and takes his hand away when Len shoos, and wraps his own long fingers around himself, and groans coming over his fist within five strokes. Barry groans along with him, his orgasm ripped out of him by the hot clutch of Len around him, and the sight before him. Barry continues to fuck Len in gentle strokes for a few more moments, enjoying the feel around him still, even as he softens slightly, before pulling out. 

He slides the condom off, and drops it in the bin, before rolling into the bed, and leaning against Len's side. "I did okay?"

Len gives a sleepy mmhmm, and rolls over wrapping Barry in his arms, tucking his chin over Barry's shoulder. "Sleep now, Scarlet."

In the morning when Barry wakes he's not alone. Len is awake in the bed still, blankets bunched up at his waist, but Barry can tell he's still not wearing a stitch under those sheets. Barry slides a hand over the sheets and bumps Len's leg with his fingers. "Morning." They've gotten slightly lax about the no staying over rule lately, but that was largely because of injuries and disasters. There was no reason for Len to decide to stay last night. 

"Good morning."

"You stayed?" Barry says it like it's a question, not necessarily asking why, but putting out there that they're both aware that it wasn't supposed to be like that. 

Len looks down at Barry, and cocks an eyebrow, "That okay?"

Barry nods against his pillow, and turns in the bed, resting the side of his head against Len's leg, heart pounding, "Yeah, babe."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are tech tests, arguments, and no mini-marshmallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... 
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I'm still not sure how it happened, but I opened my laptop and it made a weird crunching noise, but it seemed okay-- and then I finished up what I was doing, and closed the lid. Which resulted in a screen being split into two pieces as the back half was attached to the hinge somehow, which had broken horribly. :(  
> So-- there was a scramble to get a new laptop, and then salvage things off my hard drive. 
> 
> But I have a shiny new laptop, and all my files and notes, and I'm back at it. So, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 10: In which there are tech tests, arguments, and no mini-marshmallows.

It's in the middle of Barry's usual morning rush to get out the door that he drops the bomb that his family knows that he's seeing someone, even if they don't know who. He's not particularly worried about it, he understands why Barry isn't running around telling the world that he's fucking around with Cold. He'd lose his job to start, and it'd be all downhill from there, but it does spark an idea in his own mind, that he should probably tell at least Lisa, and probably Mick that he's planning on helping The Flash take down the speed demon. 

He texts them both to meet him at Number Two tonight, and he'll bring takeout. Lisa offers to cook, and Mick is so enthused about it that Len agrees. Her latest attempts have been pretty good, so it'll be fine, probably. He hadn't thought too hard about his parka, expecting that Cisco would need at least a few days to make whatever adjustments he was going to make, so he was surprised when he got the text.

Ramon [14:12]: Sorry man, I wanted to finish up the lining, but I fell asleep last night. Tomorrow, OK?

To Ramon [14:12]: Sure. Busy tonight anyway.

Ramon [14:21]: Man, don't say shit like that. Ugh. 

Len pockets his phone, rolling his eyes. Cisco was somewhat amusing, and honestly a disgustingly good person. He had a few hours to kill before dinner, and he spent them pouring over the blueprints, and security specs for their upcoming heist at a small gallery across town. The art wasn't worth an extreme amount, but it was beautiful, and Mick, in particular, loved one of the paintings. 

He rolls into Number Two, still talking into his phone. "No, dinner tonight with Mick and Lisa. Gonna be an all-nighter."

"Dinner, huh?" Len hears the distinct tone of accusation that implies that he's going to be out lifting items of value from their owners. "None of you trust me. It's a true pity."

"Uh huh. Goodnight, Len."

"Goodnight."

He walks into the kitchen, and Mick is sitting at the table with an open beer, and one foot propped on an empty chair. "Boss."

Len gives him a nod, and a subtle shoulder squeeze before walking up behind Lisa to take a peek at what she's cooking. She's got onions, garlic, and spinach in the pan, and a pot of water on the back burner. "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken, fettuccine, and a garlic parmesan sauce. You'll like it, shut up."

Mick frowns, "It has green things in it." Len holds back the snerk that wants to escape and gives Lisa a wink before assuring Mick that the green stuff won't taste like anything by the time they're cooked in the sauce. His response is a grunt, and a muttered, "Better not," before taking a long pull from his beer. 

Len and Mick talk about hockey and the news in passing before Lisa shanghais Len into helping her out by grating cheese. 

"So, what'd you want us to meet for, Boss?" Mick asked, too curious to wait any longer, clearly. 

"After dinner."

Lisa pouts, "You're not canceling our Rogues Christmas Party are you?"

Len chuckles, "Would I do that to you?" The party is just the Rogues, plus Violet, and a number of her barkeepers, taking over Saints for the night, playing pool, getting drunk, singing, dancing, the telling of tall tales of heists (and presumably fires) gone by and spiked cocoa. It was sure to be fun, and everyone seemed to be looking forward to it. "And you two are both at Number Six for Christmas Eve?"

Lisa smiled, "You bet."

Dinner is actually really good, and Len waits until everyone's eaten and is relaxing into a carbohydrate-fueled sleep-state when he drops the bomb. "I just I need to tell you about a plan I have coming up - before you hear about it somewhere else. I have no expectation that you will help, or want to help, or will even understand why I want to do it."

Mick is glowering already, and Lisa looks worried, but Len just charges on. "The geniuses at STAR Labs realized they needed help dealing with their latest - challenge."

Lisa frowns, "What does that mean?”

Mick growls, “You going straight on us?"

Len nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea, "Of course not. But, we've made it clear to our kind of people - who runs this city. Zoom doesn't care about that. So, we're gonna run him out of town. We all know that our game isn't with the Flash. Our game is with the CCPD. It's not a conflict of interest. "

Lisa shakes her head, "Lenny, that's the deal you with made with the Flash, but - helping? Why would he trust us - after what happened last time?"

"Things are - different this time. There's no gain in a double cross, and-"

"Your boy toy is friends with the gadget guy, who's friends with The Flash," Mick says, his face an angry scowl. "You don't owe them anything, just because you're fucking the skinny one."

Len slams a fist down on the table, "Mick, this has been thought through, planned for and tested. It's a solid plan. I get updated tech and a little bit of credibility with the CCPD for publically siding with The Flash. But, I also get to look like the badass I am for taking on the speed demon."

"Updated tech?" Lisa asks, curiosity filling her voice, as she sets her chin in her hand.

"Ramon has the parka. I'm not sure what he's doing to it. They designed - basically a cold bomb, and he designed insulation for The Flash, and for myself to keep us safe enough to move it while holding Zoom in place."

"You trust him?"

"Ramon? The Flash? They're too desperate for help to be pulling a long-con. And the truce between us holds. We've been thieving with no interference for months, and we can expect that to continue as long as no Rogue planned heists result in deaths. "

"You need us?" 

Len grins at Lisa. "Not this time. I won't risk you, and the heat is just what we don't need for this job," he says, motioning to Mick's gun. 

Lisa shoots him a mischievous smile over her folded hands, elbows digging into the table. "Does this mean I can have the green light on asking Cisco out?"

Len stares for a long moment and then throws his hands up. He's fucking The Flash, he has no say here. "Do what makes you happy, Lees. That's all I want for you."

Mick growls and gets up from the table, stalking down the hallway, and Len follows. Mick's just stopped halfway to his bedroom, both hands curled into fists, one pressed against the wall like he’d wanted to punch it, but didn’t want to ruin the drywall. "This is stupid, Snart. Risking everything to get in good with your little fucktoy."

"If you don't like it, you can go to Coast City, or out to Keystone and stay clear, but I'm doing this," Len says, banging on the wall with an open palm, and stalking away. He's a third of the way back to the dining room when he hears, "So about the tiny doctor lady-"

Len can't believe Mick just made a fucking joke after that, but he barks out a laugh, and says, "Good luck with that. She's cold as ice."

"Mmm, not for long," is all he says, grinning all teeth, and leaning a shoulder against the wall.

Len chuckles, and shakes a finger at him, "No means no, Mick."

"You think I don’t know that, Jackass? Get the hell out so Lisa and I can bitch and get drunk. We'll see you Tuesday night."

Len nods, that's fair enough. Saints it is then. 

It’s a quiet night at Saint’s but that’s perfect because he still needs to talk to Rathaway. He’s fairly certain a heads up is necessary in this circumstance, since his disagreements with Team Flash is more personal, and because he has work for the kid. 

He’s an interesting contradiction with comments that out him as an elitist snob that comes from ridiculous amounts of money, but also has all the trademarks that many of the people that he meets that are living on this side of the law have - being abused, disrespected, and angry. So while Len can't imagine growing up with everything that money could buy, he could understand being the disinherited gay son. They talk about bullshit most of the evening, until they've drunk enough to enjoy a buzz, and come back down to sober enough, and Len puts a hand on Hartley's wrist. 

"I just wanted to let you know, since you have a history with them - I'm working with The Flash on something. It's not any kind of statement of allegiance or long term association. It's - a necessary evil, and to get Zoom out of our city. That's all."

Hartley nods, "At least you told me."

"Also, Cisco is upgrading my parka. When they're done, they'll have put in all sorts of spy programs, and overrides, no doubt. I'll need you to clear it out."

Hartley grins at him, "It would be my genuine pleasure."

Len claps him on the shoulder and picks up his tab, and they say goodnight at the door, after Len and Vi chat briefly, and she gives him a knowing grin like she knows how things went two nights ago. There's no way she could, well unless she is a telepathic meta, which she isn't - probably.

The text from Cisco informing him that his "suit" is ready comes mid-afternoon the next day. 

Ramon [14:44]: Yo, man. Suit's finished. Come by tonight, we'll test it out. We're all here tonight. Dinner is at 7 if you're interested. (Thai tonight).

To Ramon [14:50] 7, it is. 

When he gets to STAR Labs, the door opens for him, which means someone's watched his approach. By the time he gets to the cortex, however, Barry and Cisco are standing in front of a clear board, scribbling with markers over the top of a graph with axes labeled 'asshole --> Nice Guy' and 'Rules --> No Rules', and Cisco saying, "No way, man. Lawful Evil all the way. That doesn't even make sense-"  
"Of course, it does. If you play by the rules sometimes, and not others you're going to fall into neutral-"

"The only thing is, the rules aren't -"

Len leans against the wall grinning, and Caitlin who is just watching them argue from the central computer station, tapping away at a tablet in her hands when she gives him an acknowledging nod. "You know, debating alignments is always as subjective as the player, right? That personal perspective will always color your opinion."

Cisco frowns, "That's why the GM should always decide."

"And that's you? Who sees only part of the game? Unfair. And unimportant!" Len says, walking over, and taking the red marker away from Barry. "You said my parka was done," he says, even as he marks a bright red dot on the board just below the central axis and well to the right closer to 'No Rules'. 

"Yes!" Cisco says, and he points to a glass case covered in a sheet that Len hadn't noticed previously. "So, because of the nature of the cold field, I had to do a little more than I had previously thought would be required. So, just a heads up. You ready to see it?"

Len just gestures for him to get on with it, but he's slightly terrified. He likes the simplicity of the parka. It isn't too much, it's just enough to not be completely over the top. But, when Cisco tugs the sheet off the case, Len feels like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes in a moment, because the - suit, because it's an entire suit really, is a thing of beauty. The parka is the same, Cisco didn't lie, but it's apparently now a complete outfit. 

The parka appears to be untouched, except now it's complemented by what appears to be an entire suit underneath it, complete with boots. The suit itself is a deep navy blue, with lines done in silver, and the pants appear to be a dark gray color, tucked into heavy black boots that are higher than the ones he typically wears. The emblem on the front, he certainly hadn't expected, but it's tasteful - an octagon with a geometric shape that evokes the image of a snowflake more than being an actual one. 

"So, I left the parka alone - the undersuit is multipurpose. It's both cold protection, and designed to protect against Zoom's lightning. It stands to reason that if Barry can do it, Zoom can do it. The primary layers are for temperature regulation - it's moisture wicking and has a structure that allows for pockets of body heat to stay close to your skin. It won't last forever, but it'll give you extra time before hypothermia starts to be a possibility, and it's lined so it won't be itchy or chafe." Len isn't positive, but he's pretty sure that that is the black skintight layer that hugs the entire body of the mannequin, including the throat, and seems to be cut in a similar pattern as Barry's cowl. 

"The outer layer, which is the navy blue, is the same tripolymer as Barry's suit - it'll slow down a bullet, and the central plate - will absorb and dissipate a lightning bolt down through the undersuit and back to the ground. This is the central plate," Cisco says, pointing to the octagon on the chest piece containing a blue and silver snowflake done in thick geometric shapes that looked like a snowflake without being dainty. "It has a central thermaplate, and a monitor so we can see if your body heat drops, or your body reacts negatively to the cold. There are also thermaplates in the sole and in the back seam of the boots. Do you like it?” 

“Are we going to test it?”

“You bet we’re going to test it. Put it on – and then we’ll get Barry to suit up and we’ll head down to the warehouse and make sure it’s all working the way we want.”

Len stares at the suit and moves forward to get it off the mannequin. He’s in the suit downstairs in the warehouse a few minutes later, and Cisco is heading for the control tower. Len looks over at Barry who’s wearing the full cowl suit. “This is crazy.”

Barry laughs and punches him in the shoulder, “No shit, babe. We’ve been on the path to crazy for months. You ready?”

“As I’m gonna be, I suspect.”

“We’re a go, Cisco," Barry says through the comm that Len can hear perfectly.

“Good to hear. I’m triggering threads and plates now. Cold, you see the silver button on the control glove?”

The control glove had been the highlight of putting on the suit. It has controls for the plates, he can mute the comms lines if he needs to, and has a GPS SOS transponder. “Yeah? That’s the plates?”

“Nope. Red for heat, blue for cold – or – well. No heat. The silver is special. Take a breath, and hit it.”

Len does, and a clear faceplate appears in front of him and seals to the undersuit cowl. There’s a brief whine and then air pressure is being pushed through, though from where he isn’t sure.

“If we don’t control the internal temp and pressure, you’ll have a frosted plate in ten seconds. The plate protects against the glare of your gun, without the goggles.”

“Cisco, you are amazing.”

“I accept payment in Twizzlers, icees, and lattes. Beeteedubs.”

Len grins, and then a few moments later the heat starts to creep in. It feels nice briefly, but a few minutes later when they’ve detonated the Cold device, it’s barely enough to keep him from panicking at how cold it feels. But he can manage, and he and Barry take a few swipes at each other and call it quits. Cisco powers down the field and Barry speeds them out of residual cold, over to the base of the tower. 

“So? It was enough?” Cisco asks. “I was watching the bioreadings, and they looked okay. I’m going to have Caitlin look at them in the morning, just in case I missed something.”

“It’s – unpleasant. But – manageable. Now, if we’re done?” Len asks, raising an eyebrow. Cisco shrugs and Barry has no answer, he’s still fighting his way out of the new cowl, “I’m going to head out. I have some last minute Christmas shopping to do.”

Barry chuckles, “Good luck.”

Cisco gives him a look that very distinctly says that he’s not sure that his idea of shopping doesn’t include breaking and entering (which it does). “No problem. You’re okay to go. Just – I know you’ll tamper and test – but maybe wait until Zoom is out of the picture. There’s a lot of monitoring in the system I know you’ll want out, but –“

Len held up a hand, “Relax, Ramon. I’ll take care of your precious suit. Now then, if you’ll excuse me.” He does have a small heist to pull – Lisa has her heart set on a beautiful pendant that they have on display at one of the local high-end jewelers, and he’s going to acquire it for her. 

Two hours later, he has more regret than he quite knows what to do with, because fucking Mark Mardon has not only hijacked his heist- and probably triggered the damned alarm, but he’s there with a proposal – a team up against The Flash – after they bust James Jesse out of Iron Heights. 

"You in?" he asks, smirking like he's giving Len a gift. A chance to take on The Flash, could be amazing and end in some truly phenomenal sex-- except it's a fucking stupid plan. James Jesse is nuttier than a Payday, unpredictable, and unhinged. Yeah, he's  
creative, but is he worth breaking into Iron Heights for? Not in the slightest. And something about Barry had seemed off when they were fighting in the cold field – like he’d been present but mentally preoccupied elsewhere.

"I think I'm gonna pass. Not much in it for me."

"What's the matter Snart, you going soft?"

And Len wants so badly to pull the tiny little berretta tucked in his jacket, but instead he just glares, "No profit, no game. Good luck on your little revenge quest, Mardon."

"So your little rescue was what?"

"You still owe me one. Don't think I haven't forgotten. Favors are currency, you know it was well as I do. Move along, or I'll move you along."

Mark throws his hands up, and gives him a smug grin, "Too bad, Cold, you're gonna miss out on quite a win."

"I'd weep into my beer at lost opportunities, but something tells me, it's going to be you weeping into your disgusting prison coffee. Now get out, or you'll find out how soft I haven't gotten."

Mardon leaves and Len waits a solid two hours before making his way to the West home after stopping at Number Three for his jacket, and his gun. There's no one home when he gets there, but he knows they're getting together tonight to do some final planning or something for Christmas Eve. 

The West house is decidedly homey, and he can imagine young Barry and Iris chasing each other around the place, up and down the stairs, and watching cartoons on Saturday mornings in pajamas on the sofa. The tree is beautifully decorated, and the mantle is covered in photographs of Barry, Iris, Joe, and even Henry Allen. There's a family photo that must be a young Barry with Henry, and his mother. She'd been a beautiful woman, and despite her red hair, is definitely where Barry gets his looks. 

He heads to the kitchen and digs through the cupboard before spotting the horrific reindeer mugs on the sideboard. He grabs one, and makes cocoa, because if he's breaking and entering, he might as well make himself a little bit at home, for effect. There's very real disappointment when the cupboards yield no mini-marshmallows. He hadn't planned on cocoa on Christmas Eve, but now he's going to have to, just on principle. 

He moves a lovely leather rocker next to the fireplace, and turns on the electric, and sits down to wait, tucking his gun next to him for easy access. He's not sure who'll come through the door first, but it doesn't matter. Tonight he's Cold. Not Len, not Barry's lover, not anybody that is important to their lives, just a criminal. And he waits. 

He doesn't wait long before Barry and Iris enter, mid-conversation about someone having a life-altering day, and he grins when Barry catches sight of him in the living room. He plasters on his very best shit-eating grin, and drawls, "Ho, Ho, Ho!" before taking a sip of the now lukewarm cocoa. "Cocoa isn't cocoa without the mini-marshmallows, and you're out. I checked."

It's a blink and he's pressed up against the mantle, the heat of the fire licking the back of his legs, and Barry is angrier than he's ever seen. "Are you out of your mind? Breaking into my home!"

And this is just delightful - a chance to put on a show for the lovely Miss West who no doubt hasn't even the slightest clue that not two days past Barry had bent him over and given it to him so very very good. Twice. "Careful," he says, grinning, "I made an upgrade to the cold gun. I release my grip off the handle, the core goes critical. You might make it," he says, before flicking his gaze to Iris, who is looking disconcerted, "she won't."

Barry still looks pretty pissed, but he's fairly certain that Barry knows he's - made no such upgrade, that's the dumbest thing he's ever heard, and b - he'd never purposefully hurt Iris, not when she means so much to his - to Barry. He grins when Barry backs away, and he turns to Iris, "I read your article on the disappearing middle class." They'd read it in bed together during Barry's recovery, Barry bursting with pride, and Len - impressed despite himself. "Strong point of view- nice prose style."

Iris scoffs and Len grins despite himself when she's clearly shaken off any resemblance of fear and walks around the sofa separating them, dropping her back onto the seat. "Yeah well, who needs a Pulitzer when you have a homicidal maniac's seal of approval?"  
It'd hurt, but honestly, she's not wrong- his praise isn't worth much. "Didn't Barry tell you?" he asks, "I had a rough childhood." Fucking understatement. 

She doesn't give him an inch, though, and damn if he's not impressed. Honestly, she's brave as hell, and some part of her attitude reminds him of Violet. What's not to like? "Everyone in this room had a rough childhood. Get over it," she snaps and props to her. He wonders what was so difficult about her childhood, Barry - sure- but Iris- but he belatedly realizes there aren't any photos of a Mrs. West. Interesting. 

Barry rushes to change the subject, though, "What are you doing here, Snart?" 

And Len just shrugs, "I got the Noel spirit. Wanted to give you a gift." And that's gotten Barry's attention, thank fuck. “Mardon dropped by tonight to offer up a one-time opportunity. Invited me to join his little crew, he's gonna bust Jesse out the Heights, and then we'd take you on. I took a pass," he says, hoping that Barry's understanding what he's saying. It's pretty likely, but his expression remains unchanged.

"What, you grow a conscience all of a sudden?" Iris takes a swipe at him. 

He frowns, "Mardon wants revenge. Jesse'll do it for kicks. Me? I'm just not - invested like they are."

"You mean there's no money in it for you."

"Never was one for non-profit work," Len says, grinning. Damn woman, and damn Barry for having a girl with that much fire at his side for most of his life, and keeping her sidelined. What a waste. 

"If you're not in with them- then tell me where they are."

Which - would be helpful information, except Len doesn't know. He's not even sure what timeline Mardon has for breaking Jesse out, or if he already had and just had him stashed somewhere. "Naah. Consider me more of a secret Santa. Besides, you and your friends love to solve a good mystery."

Barry scoffs, and then turns on him, "You're full of it, Snart."

And Len would like to say that he kept his cool, that he didn't rise to the bait, but at this point, the rules have been broken. He hadn't asked Barry for much, but he hated his father's name more than almost anything else, and Barry had just flung it at him in a fit of pique. 

"I saved your sister's life, and you just can't stand owing me a marker. I hate to break it to you- but that - that right there- it's called honor. "

Len rolls his eyes, no fucking shit, he keeps honor amongst his thieves, and makes them keep their faith with him, with his gun if need be, but most are enthusiastic participants in his little game with the CCPD. "Go on. Make your pitch. I can see you're dying to."

"Help me stop them."

"I'm not interested in being a hero."

And Barry gives him a look like he's pissed when frankly he has absolutely no right to be. Barry approached him first, eyes wide open to exactly who Leonard is, and he'd leaped into bed anyway. That he doesn't want to team up to take on the craziest motherfucker in Iron Heights, and a juiced up Mark Mardon shouldn't be a great surprise. But more important than the competition – because he’s fine with going in with him to take on fucking Zoom – is that fact that he’d be making that stand against his fellow criminal class. That would go over like a lead balloon.

"You're doing a lousy job of being a villain this week."

And Len keeps his cool, and yanks open the door. "Merry Christmas, Barry."

***

When Barry gets home hours later there’s a handwritten note on his counter. It’s written on the back of an envelope, in blue ink, and in all caps.

SCARLET-  
IT’S HOT WHEN YOU THROW ME UP AGAINST THE WALL. YOU SHOULD DO IT AGAIN SOMETIME. OUT WITH MICK -- DON’T LET MARDON CATCH YOU & DON’T GET HURT. -L

Barry grins, and tosses the note in the trash, lest Joe or Iris stop over and see it. Cisco went back into the lab, and has the weather pattern recognition program up and running and set to send him alerts if something anomalous pops up. Until then he’ll have to work around Patty’s need for vengeance and the tension of the recent discoveries in the West Family. 

But that is a delightful little image that Len just painted for him, he thinks, and he strips right there in the kitchen and heads for the shower. He can appreciate it properly there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that was sort of bland, but it was a necessary transitional chapter. And now that I'm back up and running you'll get updates back on a more normal schedule!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is Christmas parties, presents, and petty theft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end! <3

Chapter 11: In which there is Christmas parties, presents, and petty theft

The Rogues Christmas Party is a huge success in Len’s opinion. He’s rented the bar out for the entire evening and opened a bottomless tab for his guests. The kitchen was busy cranking out snacks both cooked and not, and everyone is slightly buzzed, and having fun snacking and talking shit about past heists, and small victories, and close calls that have cropped up in their lives. 

It’s everything he wanted. It’s bringing his team closer together if they’re trusting each other enough to tell embarrassing stories, and rip on Hartley for being an ivy league college boy. His cheeks are flushed with alcohol, but he’s laughing all the same, his arm twined in his boyfriend’s, laughing, and teasing Peekaboo about some shenanigans that they got up to last week apparently.

It was a fairly small invite list – himself, Mick and Lisa, Hartley, Shawna, Vi, dates were allowed, but thin on the ground. He thinks Lisa may have actually invited Cisco, but he’s probably busy helping Barry deal with Mardon, but Lisa’s tenacious if she’s anything, and she’ll find new opportunities for herself. 

Vi slides onto the stool next to him and leans back against the bar. “You look pleased with yourself. All your little ducklings under one roof, behaving and having fun. You done good.”

Len gives her a wry grin, bumping her shoulder with his, “Thanks, Vi.”

“The bill’s gonna suck, though.”

Len shrugs it off, with a wave of his bottle and a smirk, “Worth it. Besides, you could use the money, no doubt.”

“Ain’t gonna hurt, that’s for sure. So, you got things sorted with your fella? You seem less tense.”

Len shrugs, “Enough.” 

Vi gives him a smile, and clinks her bottle to his, “Good. Now, I’m gonna get back in the kitchen and see what’s the hold up on those wings. You go stop Mick from picking boring shit on that jukebox,” she says, pointing to where Mick is standing flipping through the selections. “Booty shakers, Leonard. Won’t settle for any less, and then you drag that adorable boy on the floor and dance. Kid could use a little thrill.”

Len shakes his head at her, but he also sets his bottle down on the counter and heads over to check on Mick. It takes some work but, he convinces him to pick something uptempo and to take Shawna out on the dance floor. 

The Rogues stumble out of the bar around four in the morning, and Len puts them all in taxis and prepays their fare. For the Rogues, he slips an envelope into their jackets for them to find in the morning – a crisp two grand a piece. He and Lisa walk home slowly meandering and doing their best to not stumble over each other or cracked pavements. Lisa sighs heavily and leans against a wall when they’ve made it three-quarters of the way there. “That was fun. Shame Cisco couldn’t make it. I got some news alerts on my phone. I guess Mardon’s up to some shit.”

Len just shrugs, “Yeah. I heard about that.”

“Still sorry we busted his ass out of that truck?”

“He still owes me a favor. Could be very handy someday.”

Her eyes are pressed closed but she answers, “Yeah. I guess.”

“You gonna lean against that building all night looking like you want to get picked up by some asshole in a car for a crisp twenty?”

Lisa gives him the finger, “I’m a grand a night at least,” she snarks, before pushing off the wall, and then leans back against it. “I got the spins so bad, Lenny,” she whines.

Len shakes his head. “You just want me to carry you back to the house so you don’t have to walk in those shoes.” They’re ridiculously high stilettos, and they look killer with her skinny jeans and leather jacket, but he’s certain they have to hurt like hell. 

“I’d probably throw up on you if you did.”

Len sighs, and slings her over his shoulder in a fireman carry, “Wouldn’t be the first time, sis. Keep your eyes shut, it might help if warn me if you think you’re going to puke.”

“Yup,” is her only answer. For a block he carries her in relative quiet, just the sounds of the city in the sleeping city, and Len’s footsteps, when Lisa sighs, “You’re a good big brother.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, but he gives her leg a squeeze so she knows he heard her. She doesn’t say much for a while longer, and then, she shifts slightly on his back, and frowns, “I know it was a Rogues party and all, but you could have brought your boyfriend. Nobody would recognize him, I don’t think.”

No, they probably wouldn’t, but it also wasn’t worth the risk. That sooner or later one of them might scrap with The Flash, or run into Cisco and Barry and connect the dots. “Maybe not,” he replies, “but I know thieves, and it’s best to not to give them an ammunition. Besides, it’s risky for Barry to spend public time with me, as it is.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again, though,” and Len feels her lean her chin over his shoulder. “He was cute, and if he’s sticking around, and it seems like he is, I’d like to do the shovel talk sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says and isn’t sure if that’s true, but it’ll delay the discussion for a while at least. He didn’t really like to dwell on the fact that he and Barry have been surviving their arrangement with only a few dustups about serious things for almost seven months. Len isn’t sure what to think of that. If it’s one of the universes greatest tricks ever pulled – that he’s found someone that he fits with – and it’ll never work. I can’t. But that’s his life all over, isn’t it? His mom leaves, which he honestly can’t fault her for, and then the universe gives him Lisa, and his dad goes off the rails even worse than he already had. None of the handful of guys that he’d met that weren’t just interested in one-night only fuck, ever lasted more than a few weeks. 

Except Mick, who was his brother the moment he’d waded into a fight that wasn’t his. He had his problems, but he was just broken in his own way. And they’d cobbled together their own coping methods over time. You could count on Mick to have a flame filled meltdown if not given other outlets in times of stress, or simply given enough time, and they mostly managed. But even Mick and he had been pushed passed their ability to stay together. 

And Len knows that that could happen with Barry if someone died at his hand, and it’s a rule he can live with. But, he doesn’t feel like they’re going to break without outside interference. It’s the outside interference that he lives in fear of lately, and it’s nothing he can really control outsides his own circle of peers. As much as he, in many ways, lives to indulge his sister, he’s pretty certain he’s not going to budge on this one.

The house is quiet as he unlocks the front door to Number Six and helps Lisa back to her feet. He tucks Lisa into her bed after getting her out of her shoes, and jacket, and brings her a glass of water. She drinks it slowly with her eyes still closed. He gives her two Advil and tucks her in. “Sleep. I’ll leave another glass on the side for when you wake up.”

She slides back into her bed, and pulls the covers up, “Night, Lenny.”

“Night, Lees.”

He crashes for a maybe an hour on the sofa, before getting up and getting dressed for a run. He needs to get out of his head for a bit, worrying about Barry and Mardon, about their upcoming heist upsetting the order of things. His legs eat up the miles and gradually his worries fade away, as fatigue and the burn in his lungs takes over. The route he chose goes past Number Three and he briefly contemplates checking in on Mick, before deciding that he’d rather not disrupt his pacing. It takes just under two hours, but he’s done a ten-mile lap of the neighborhood, and he thinks he might be able to shower and drop into bed for a few hours. 

Lisa greets him at the door with a shake, and he thanks her, slugging it down, and heading up for that shower. His limbs are tired, his lungs are tired, but he feels good. He feels calm, and he feels content. Sleep should be no problem.

***

Barry comes downstairs on Christmas morning to find Joe and Iris sitting on the couch watching Home Alone and drinking cocoa. “Morning.”

Joe turns on the couch and smiles, “Almost afternoon, actually. Cocoa, breakfast, presents?”

Barry grinned, “Sounds good.” Christmas breakfast was the best – chocolate chip pancakes, bacon and sausage and cocoa, it was a sugar and fat nightmare, but it was Christmas and a long-standing tradition in the West home.

He’s halfway through his stack of pancakes when he gets a call from Cisco. 

“Hey! Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks, man. Uh, so, did you put a present under my tree? Just you know, curious.”

Barry frowns. They’d all exchanged last night, at the house, full of egg nog, and pleased with themselves for capturing Mardon, and Barry in particular for stopping Patty from some seriously bad decisions. “No, why?”

“Because there’s a beautifully wrapped box covered in snowflakes, to me. And, I dunno about you, man but after recent events, I’m a little wary about presents with no from label.”

Barry grins, “I hear that. Snowflakes you say?”

“Uh, yeah. You think-“ And Barry abandoned his place at the table with a grin and a wave to Joe and Iris, and checked under their tree, and grinned, “Hey. I have one too. You should ask Caitlin. I bet she has one. I think you’re OK to open it.”

“Uh, you sure you don’t wanna be here just in case? You can run it out before my house blows up?”

Barry laughs. It’s not like it’d take a lot of his time to run out there real quick just to be sure, “Okay. Give me like five.”

“Thanks, man.” 

Barry goes back in the kitchen and grins, “So, I gotta run to Cisco’s for a minute. He’s got a mystery present on his hands and he wants to make sure it doesn’t blow up in his face. So, just give me like five, and I’ll be back.”

Joe snorts, “Sure thing, kid. And then presents.”

Barry grins and makes a silly face at Iris. “And then presents!” he agrees with great enthusiasm and a cheesy little dance, before racing into his suit and across town. He ditches the suit quickly into a bag, before knocking on the Ramon family door. 

“Dude, thanks for this," Cisco says after he opens the door. He's dressed as usual in a t-shirt, but he's left off the button up, and is wearing a pair of Batman lounge pants and Christmas themed socks judging by the color. 

Barry walks into the house and is greeted first by a decent sized and very spotty Dalmatian, and barks a few times before Cisco says, “Pongo, ¡Échate!”

The dog looks at Cisco, and then at Barry, but it stops jumping, and doesn’t bark, but it stands sort of wary at the presence of a new stranger. Barry’s never been to Cisco’s family home before, only his apartment over in University Town. “Barry, this is my parent’s dog, Pongo.”

“He’s cute,” Barry says, holding a hand out for the dog to sniff. “Hi, buddy.”

Pongo sniffs for a moment before his tail starts wagging and Cisco rolls his eyes, “Anyway, I don’t want to take up your entire Christmas morning, but if you could-“

“Yea, of course,” Barry follows him up to a bedroom, where the gift is set on a desk. It is as described, blue with snowflakes and a jaunty white bow on top. The tag just says To Cisco. Barry gives it a gentle shake, and it sounds normal for a gift, even if it is fairly heavy. He looks over at Cisco, and then speed unwraps the gift, peeks and rewraps it. “Nah man, you’re good. You’ll like it. I’m off.”

“Thanks, man!”

Barry’s back at the house, watching Iris open her gift from ‘Santa’ when he gets a text from Cisco.

Cisco [12:10] OMG. THIS IS AMAZING. OMG. KISS YOUR BOYFRIEND FOR ME. OMG. 

Barry grins, and puts his phone away, glad Cisco is happy with his old-fashioned projector and copy of The Maltese Falcon and laughs when Iris is thrown into a paroxysm of joy over a sock pack featuring owls and stripes. He laughs and looks at Joe. “How come no socks for Barry?”

Joe is curled into the corner of the sofa with a huge mug of Irish coffee heavy on the whiskey and sugar and light on the cream, “Please, bachelor Barry, I bet you buy new socks weekly to avoid doing laundry. You want new socks? Go to the laundromat.”

Barry laughs and wishes that wasn’t true. “Ha ha.”

Iris cackles, before diving back under the tree, and tugs out a wrapped gift like Cisco’s but smaller - flat and rectangular, from under the tree. Barry is terrified for a long moment, but instead Iris frowns. “It’s for me, but there’s no from.”

Barry grins, “It’s from my friend. What is it?”

She frowns at him, and then tugs the blue paper off, and Barry is concerned for a moment when she just stares at what appears to be a pair of frames. “What is it?”

“It’s an Oscar Wilde quote. ‘An idea that is not dangerous is not worthy of being called and idea at all.’” She runs a hand delicately over the frame and then separates the two. It’s one of the first pictures she took of Barry when she’d only known him as The Streak. She moves them around and then shows Barry and Joe the picture. “Wow.”

“I know you don’t know each other, but he thinks you’re a great writer.”

She presses the frames to her chest and gives Barry a wobbly smile. “Well, tell your mystery man, I said thank you.”

Barry smiles, “Of course.”

There’s no box here for him, but he has a strong suspicion he’ll find it at his own apartment, or it’s under a tree in a safehouse waiting for him. He texts Len later on when they’re all in and out of the kitchen making dinner when he thinks no one will be bothered. 

To Booty Call [13:21]: Iris nearly cried over her gift. So. Well done.

He doesn’t get a text back for a few hours, until dinner has been eaten, leftovers placed in leftover takeout containers, gifts packed up, and Barry’s gotten home in time to look forward to a relaxing evening off, hopefully at least, with his latest unsolved mysteries book, and a pot of coffee. 

Booty Call [20:21]: Glad she liked it. You busy?

To Booty Call [20:22] Nah. Reading at home, hoping for no call outs.

Booty Call [20:22] OK to drop in?

Barry grins at his phone and texts back an affirmative. It’s been days since he’s seen Len, and damn Mark Mardon for that situation. He races into the bedroom to change and make the bed, and then in a whirlwind tidies up the kitchen from last night’s late night kitchen disaster before returning to the sofa. He gets about halfway through the chapter about Nessy, because what book about the impossible doesn’t have a chapter about Nessy – when Len’s standard double knock sounds on the door, and then he steps through. Which meant that once again he hadn’t heard Len pick the lock. 

“Hey,” Barry says, smiling. “Did you have a nice Christmas?” Len looks absolutely fantastic in gray trousers, and a navy blue sweater under the peacoat, so put-together and Barry is once again struck by how beautiful this man really is, grays and all. 

Len shrugs, “Yeah. I had lunch with Mick and Lisa.” There’s a pause and then, “Please tell me it’s okay for me to rip your clothes off and throw you in bed.”

Barry’s eyes widen and then his expression turns to delight, “Oh, by all means-“ which is all the permission Len needs to slide two hands to his jaw and close the gap between their bodies with a kiss. “Miss me?” Barry asks, between kisses, inconveniently unable to stop smiling.

“Fucking Mark Mardon. I had plans for that night,” is Len’s answer, that comes out in a deep rasp, as he works at Barry’s belt. 

Barry is happy to help things along, and tugs his sweater and undershirt off in a single tug, throwing it vaguely towards the couch. “Gonna share with the class?”

“No,” is all Len says, before Barry’s pants are loose enough to step out of.  
“Bedroom?”

Barry nods, sliding a hand around Len’s side, fisting his shirt in his hand, wishing he could speed his lover out of his clothes. He’s a common desire, but he’s learned that Len is the type to savor the strip. “Better than the couch.”

“Debatable, but as I have no desire for rug burn today, we’ll do it your way. After you, Scarlet.”

Barry grins, not letting go of the fistful of cloth he has, and he walks Len to the bedroom, backward, grinning the entire way, unabashedly pleased with himself, and unconcerned by his own nudity in the face of Len still even in his boots. “Is this my present? Am I going to find a bow on it?”

Len barks out a laugh, “Kinky,” he says, just as they clear the door, and Len pushes into Barry’s space. “What makes you think you’re getting a gift?” Len asks, casual as anything, and Barry is suddenly very worried that he made a stupid assumption. It’s possible no gifts fell under the unspoken rules that they sometimes complied with. 

“You got something for Iris. And Cisco.” Barry says, unsure, and both confused and kind of turned on, as he watches Len slide out of his shirt. 

“And our dear Doctor Snow. Who Mick is sort of sweet on, in a weird way. But, that’s just – hedging my bets. You, Scarlet, don’t need to be paid off. You’re already mine,” he says, and Barry watches with wide eyes, as his trousers slide off his slim hips. 

There’s not a single thread of underpants, and Barry exhales sharply. How, Barry wonders, does his man manage to find and push every single one of his buttons? “Just as I thought,” Len drawls, cleared pleased with Barry’s reaction, stepping away from the pile of clothes on the floor. He has managed to get out of his shoes somehow without Barry noticing, but he remains in a hilarious pair of Star Wars socks and nothing else. Which – is adorable? It’s not hot, it’s not got his hormones going but it gets his heart thumping slightly – so so screwed. 

“Mmhmm,” Barry agrees, climbing back onto the bed, grinning. “Leave the socks on.”

Len blinks at him and then climbs on as well, pulling Barry close against him, and leaning in for a kiss. 

The twenty minutes after are punctuated by laughter, pleasure-filled groans, and Barry is proud to report that some of the moans might have been also described as keens when Barry had enthusiastically vibrated his throat around his lover’s cock. The afterglow is silent, the lights aren’t on they hadn’t bothered, but the streetlights outside cast enough light that the room isn’t dark. Len shifts slightly in the bed, and Barry turns to look over at him. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

Len grins, “Still angling for gifts I see.”

Barry shrugs, “Well, I’d settle for you going to the kitchen and bringing back the pie that’s in my fridge and two forks?”

Len throws a leg over Barry and yanks him close. “I will in a few minutes. I want to be right here, right now.”

Barry doesn’t say anything. He can enjoy manly snuggles of silence if that’s what Len needs, he supposes. He stays put, even though he’s slightly uncomfortable, and focuses his attention instead to the beautiful swirls and fractals in his field of vision that are inked into his lover’s collarbone, shoulder, and arm. It’s calming in a way, listening to Len breath in and out, a hand idly stroking along Barry’s skin. The air isn’t charged, there’s no tension, but there’s a pause in the silence, and it feels like Len is trying to find a way to say something. Barry decides to give him the time he needs. 

A car goes by loudly blaring an obnoxious bass, a dog sets off a neighborhood bark, someone laughs at an incredible volume, and Len sighs, “I did miss you.”

Barry doesn’t think that laughter is the correct response, so he just squeezes Len’s arm. “Me too, babe.” He pauses a moment, and says, “Pie?” hoping the change of subject will get them back to topics less charged with meaning and uncertainty. 

Len shakes his head, “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were more stomach than man. Pie it is.”

The next morning Barry wakes to the smell of coffee and toast and smiles knowing Len hasn’t left. He makes a beeline to the bathroom and has a shower and a quick shave before heading into the kitchen. Len is sitting at the tiny hightop table crammed in the corner of his tiny apartment kitchen in a pair of Barry’s flannel sleep pants and nothing else, and reading the paper. “Where’d you get a newspaper?” Barry asks, curious as he pours himself a cup of coffee. 

“Stole it from a neighbor.”

Barry shakes his head, “Asshole.” He sits in the chair across from Len and snatches a piece of toast off the plate on the far side of the table.

Len just raises an eyebrow and “Pot – Kettle,” Len says, snatching the toast from Barry’s hand. 

Barry rolls his eyes, but he gets up and turns the oven on, and lays out eight pieces of bread. “Yeah yeah. I have to run as soon as those are done, to be on time. Can you watch them?”

Len rolls his eyes, “Yes. Go dress yourself, Scarlet.”

Barry arrives at work on time, and gets a few surprised looks as he heads upstairs with his pile of toast, and a to-go cup of coffee in hand, bag slung over his shoulder at five minutes before eight. His shirt isn’t even inside out. That’s never happened before, though. Honestly. 

Two hours later he’s texted Cisco. It’s time to get this plan moving. They’ve got the tech, they’ve got the start of a plan. The holidays are over. It’s time to take this fight to Zoom.

To Cisco [10:37]: No more dawdling. You, me, breech math tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it, we made it around the Christmas episode! YAY! (Ugh!)
> 
> I'm so excited to move on to the next part. I was at lunch the other day sketching out the particulars from my plot notes on some points and I nearly started cackling with evil delighted glee in a Subway. So. 
> 
> Next chapter: Earth 2, Guys!! 
> 
> And, as usual, thanks to each and every one of you who has clicked the kudos button or left a comment, they are fantastic encouragement in my inbox each day to keep going when my brain is running off in ten different directions screaming about Hartley, and Kylo Ren. (To clarify, not together.)
> 
> I went through this with Word, and Grammarly hoping to catch any misspellings or mistypes - my new laptop's keyboard layout is a bit different and I keep finding myself having to go back and fix things that came out wrong -- so if you see a horrible error, please let me know in a comment. Thank you!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is math, abductions, arguments, and two grown men have a sort of heart to heart over beer and wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, guys I'm so so so sorry about the chapter delay. It turns out, that unless you want to be all-in, you shouldn't volunteer to do anything for your sibling's wedding. So - wedding accomplished, and I'm back. (Seriously, though it was lovely and my new sister is great!!)
> 
> I also struggled with some writer's block, or maybe I just drained the creativity well by writing non-stop for months? IDK, but either way, I'm back in the saddle as it were, and we'll get on with Act 3!! 
> 
> Lastly, I wanted to point you to a short story that I posted on my tumblr, that is a sort of side story to this. You don't need it to understand, I HOPE (and if that's not the case please tell me, so I can fix it!!) but it might make things a little clearer. That story can be found [ here](http://sabrielplz.tumblr.com/post/144866428127/four-times-henry-allen-met-leonard-snart).

Chapter Twelve:

 

Len hasn’t seen Barry in six days. He knows that his lover is wrapped up in STAR Labs, trying to fix the world, as usual, but enough is enough. Not only is he horny as fuck, but given the fact that his most recent texts look like drunk texts, he’s thinking that it might be time to mount a rescue. 

He carries his bike helmet in and stalks down the corridor to the central cortex. It’s fairly quiet in the mostly abandoned building, as usual, until he gets closer. At which point he can hear Cisco, Barry and Wells arguing. 

“Boys! Boys! What are we arguing about?” he asks, as he walks into one of the commonly used lab spaces. The room is a disgusting wreck. There’s food wrappers, drink cups, a jar of open peanut butter, all covering various countertops. There are six clear whiteboards circling the space, and they are covered in complex equations. There are also at least a dozen colored dry erase markers on the floor around the boards and small piles of them around the room. It also, unfortunately, smells like a locker room. 

Cisco frowns, “What are you doing here?” Cisco looks like a disaster, unwashed hair pulled into a tail, his t-shirt is both stained and wrinkled, and he's wearing only socks, no doubt to avoid trench foot.

Len glares, “I’m stealing something, Cisco. Go home, or wherever it is you live-“ Len says, looking at Wells who appears to be about ten seconds away from blowing a gasket. “You all need to sleep, and to eat a vegetable, and take a goddamned shower.”

“Uh huh,” Cisco says, giving him elevator eyes. “That’s what you’re here for.”

Barry blushes and Len rolls his eyes, “Whatever. I’m kidnapping The Flash, and I’ll return him when I am satisfied-“

“Oh god-“

“That he is rested and fed, for fucks sake. Let’s go, Scarlet.” He gives Barry a silent count of five before he grabs him in a fireman carry and walks him out of the room. And if he doesn’t like it, well – it wasn’t his fault, Barry could have walked out on his own. 

“If I set you down are you going to back in there?”

“Maybe. I’m still mad that you made a thing about not giving me a Christmas present and then left me one at work. Like a crazy person! Who has a criminal record, and waltzes into the precinct?” Barry answers but Len can hear the grin in his voice.

“Tough. Because you need to eat, and you need to wash, and sleep, and eat more, and tomorrow is Saturday, and we are not getting out of bed for anything but food, water, booze and extra condoms,” he says as he helps Barry back onto his feet.

Barry gives Len a lusty grin before noticing the sleek black and blue sport bike parked in front of them. “New bike?”

“No, I just don’t get many excuses to take him out.” He unlocks the seat, and releases the helmet catch, and hands Barry the spare. “Put it on.”

Barry does, and Len checks it, before pulling his own on, and straddling the bike. “Get on.”

The trip home is fast, and Barry is holding on tight. At a light, Len pauses. “You okay back there??”

And Barry squeezes him tighter, and answers, “Fuck yes. This bike is amazing.”

And he is, he’s sleek, and responsive, and faster than the cruisers he and Lisa usually ride on. “Amen,” he says, and he picks his feet up when the light changes to green and guns it. 

Len parks just outside Barry’s apartment, and helps Barry out of the helmet They’re just outside the main entrance when Barry asks, “How fast were we going?”

Len raises an eyebrow. “You can’t tell?”

Barry frowns, “I can’t always even tell when I’m running. It’s – gotten me into trouble few times," he says, heading up the stairs. "I’m working on it. But – it’s not a strict equation where: it feels faster so it is faster. It’s complicated.”

Len is fascinated by the concept. He doesn’t know enough physics to say if perceived time warping could be a thing, but in the sense that he’s physically running – it should certainly correlate, shouldn’t it? They head into the apartment, after saying a brief hello to the couple that live in the apartment next to Barry, all done up and on their way out for the night. 

“Well, have a good night you two. We’re out to close down the town. So, don’t worry about us. Have a good time,” the woman who Barry knew to be called Serena had teased, with a cheeky grin and a wink that set Barry’s cheeks on fire. 

Len shakes his head at the ridiculous display, “I’m sure we will,” he says, with a dirty leer at Barry that has Serena grinning even wider. “Now, have a good night out. If you make it as far as Saints and Sinners, tell Vi Len sent you, and the tab is on me.”

“Seriously?” she asks, pulling the strap of her purse further onto her shoulder. Her boyfriend just looks a little skeptical, but Len decides to ignore it. 

“I know I’ve caused you at least a few sleepless nights. It’s the least I can do. If you’re looking for something newer Ignition just opened up over in University Town, I can cover you there too, just ask for Mick instead. Have a great night,” he says, pushing Barry towards his doorway. 

Barry smirks at him once the door is shut, “You softy.”

Len scoffs, “Lies. I simply prefer to not make enemies where I live. Now-“ he begins and then loses track of his train of thought because he sees something when Barry opens the coat closet to hang his coat up. A shiny red package with gold ribbon is crammed into the top of the closet looking forlorn and rumpled amidst shoes, a tool box, and a variety of camping gear. It’s past Christmas, past New Years, even, so why is it still there? “What’s that?” he asks, pointing.

Barry flushes as red as the box. “It’s nothing. Just – you know, an extra.”

“You buy duplicate gifts often, Scarlet?”

Barry just stares at him for a moment before throwing his hands in the air and then blurting out loudly, “It’s yours, okay? You were pretty adamant that we weren’t doing gifts, and then you DID, and I didn’t know what to do. You left it at my job! And then, I look like an idiot -so I just stuffed it in the closet.”

Len isn’t sure if he should be horribly amused or feel like a dick. “I see. So, have I forfeited it?”

Barry reaches into the closet and hands it over, "I should say yes, but I won't." The paper is slightly crinkled, and the stick-on bow on the top is flattened on one side, but it’s still a fairly large flat garment sized box wrapped in shiny red paper with a big gold bow on the top. The label that features a penguin wearing a beanie hat says To Len From Barry, which isn’t particularly sentimental, but there’s something that he likes about it. He opens it with no finesse because delicately unwrapping gifts is ridiculous in his opinion.

The moment the paper is off, and the lid of the black box is opened the smell of quality leather hits his nose. Shifting the sheets of red tissue paper away, he uncovers a beautiful black leather jacket. The leather is soft, and matte. He pulls it out of the box and sets the box on the back of the couch. It’s gorgeous with five bronze snaps to close, as well as a snap on the stand collar. The pockets and sleeves have matching zippers and the lines are striking. He tries it on, and it fits him like a glove, in the best way. 

“You like it?” Barry asks, wringing his hands. 

“It’s perfect. Soft, and edgy, and it smells wonderful. So, yes.”

“Good. I liked my gift too.”

“Yeah?” Len asks, curious. It’s been so easy to figure out Ramon and Iris, and set the day out up for Dr. Snow, obvious really, but Barry had been a freaking struggle from the moment he began to worry about it. In the end, the silver snowflake keychain with seven delicate keys all numbered zero through six, had been his final decision. It was risky, handing the son of a detective the keys to all his safehouses and his townhouse, but he’d spent a while thinking about it, and Barry didn’t have any hideyholes other than STAR Labs, his tiny apartment, and at a push the West house. These weren’t safehouses, these were his usual haunts, and with the showdown with Zoom looming, Len hopes he doesn’t need them, but he wants him to have access anyway. 

“Yeah,” is all Barry answers with a smile. Len still has the jacket on, and Barry slides his hands in around Len’s sides. “So, food and then sex, or sex and then food?”

Len raises an eyebrow, “Shower. Can you not smell yourself? Shower. Change. I’m going to call for Indian. What do you want?”

“Ooh! Lamb Madras. And garlic naan. And some bhajis, and some samosas. And chicken saag.”

“Anything else?” Len asks because honestly for Barry two mains, bread, and two appetizers is a smaller order.

“No. I’ve been kind of stationary. So, I need less.”

“Got it. Get in the shower.” Len orders extra because he knows better, and even if Barry doesn’t eat it tonight, he’ll want it in the morning. 

Barry is fresh out of the shower and in blessedly clean smelling clothes when the delivery guy shows up. It smells amazing, and set all the containers out on the coffee table, and manage to eat almost everything, while watching a trio of Mythbusters reruns. When they’re done, and all the things have been blown to smithereens, they pack the meager leftovers away. There’s a tension in the silence between them that’s fallen since the end of the episodes they had bickered through. Len reaches across the kitchen and takes Barry’s hand. “Come to bed.”

Barry grins and pulls Len close, leaning back against the counter, tucking his hands into Len’s pockets. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Yeah?”

“We all needed a break at least twelve hours before you showed up. After a while, you just can’t see the problem anymore.”

Len nods, he’s intimately acquainted with that issue. Sometimes blueprints and schematics are like reading a picture book, and sometimes they’re badly translated, densely written German philosophy treatises. It’s easy to get lost in the problem and lose sight   
of the goal. “Then it’ll do you some good to be here for at least twenty-four hours before you go back. What are you working on anyway?”

“We know we can close the breaches. But if we do that we just trap Zoom on the other side and leave Jesse Wells to his mercy. Which we won’t do. We have to go to Earth-2 to get her. Ideally, we’d like to regulate the breeches.”

“Like a faucet?”

“Yes! But we did some calculations, and the speed uhm, cannon that Jay built that allows travel to Earth 2, might not remain stable if we close all the other breaches. We’re trying to find an optimal number to maintain, or failing that, a method that will allow the cannon to regulate the overloads. Cisco’s working the engineering half with Jay, and Wells is trying to determine which breaches are the most stable. I’m triple checking the math on the breech collapse delivery method.”

“Which is?”

“It looks like a space-age football bomb. It implodes the breach on contact. We tested it, and it works. But, we need to keep monitoring to make sure it's permanent.”

“So, you get your breeches the way you want. Then what?”

“Then we go.”

Len takes a step back, confused. “Where?”

“To Earth 2. I promised Harry we would find and rescue Jesse.”

“You’re just gonna show up – and what?”

He isn't expecting Barry's response to what he assumes is a simple question, but instead, he watches as the concerned furrow appears between his lover's eyebrows, and he and then tugs his phone out of his pocket. “Hang on.” There’s a lot of tapping, and then a pause, and Barry says, “Some things aren’t mine to tell. Let me – “and his alert goes off and he stares at his phone a long moment and then taps back a reply, “clear it first.”

Len can understand that, “Sure.”

They stand shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen as Barry texts back and forth. “It’s fine if you can’t tell me,” Len says after three rounds of messages.

“No, we’re just – he’s really sensitive about it, “Barry says, reading the screen after another alert and setting it aside on the counter. “So, the thing is, that Cisco is a meta. We didn’t know for a while because it’s not an obvious sort of power.”

Len frowns, he’s never seen any evidence that Cisco has powers of any kind other than the ability to consume massive amounts of caffeine and Twizzlers without crashing horribly. “What –“

“So, he can feel and see the vibrations of the universes. So, when breachers come through, or timelines change, he can see them. If we can get him something that belonged to Jesse, he should be able to vibe her location. And then we can figure out how to extract her.”

“Okay. That’s – something of a plan at least. I’m coming.”

“What? No. I don’t want Zoom –" 

“To what?” Len demands, irritated. 

“He could hurt you. Or grab you, and then we need to find you too-“ Barry's turned to face him, and the concern and worry on plain on his face.

Len wants to grab Barry by the shoulders and shake him. He has a heart made of the finest and purest gold, and Len knows that value of that treasure – he also seems to plan using his heart, and not his head at least half the time. It’s something he often wishes he could get Barry to stop doing, but the power of Barry’s heart and convictions is one his best qualities. It’s a dichotomy he still isn’t sure how to manage. “I can handle myself, Scarlet. I’ve been fighting off scumbags and jerks since I was ten. I can manage one psychotic speedster if I must. Besides, I’ll bring the gun, that should hold him for a time.”

Len pulled Barry back into his space. “I know I can’t make you do this, but I think it would be unwise not to bring me along. Will you at least think about it?”

“Yes.”

Len grins, “Excellent. Now, get your ass into bed.”

Barry is out cold not five minutes after Len gets him stripped and under the blanket. Len locks up and turns the lights off before crawling into bed with his lover, content to be, and to wait until morning.

* * *

It takes four hours after Barry returns to the cortex to crack the equation, and ten hours for Cisco and Harry to verify his results. It will take at least twelve hours to get the modifications to the speed cannon made, and five of those will be spent dealing with the most unstable of the breaches in Central City. It’s thrilling – to finally be making progress. Except Barry still hasn’t decided to what end.

The mission to save Jesse is dangerous, but Len might be right – it might be the wrong idea to leave the cold gun and the man that wields it so competently behind just to save himself from potential complications. Len knows about Cisco now, so the need for secrecy is gone. The only problem is going to be getting his participation passed Joe and Iris. But, in the end, it's going to be his call. 

The final decider is when Barry asks Cisco, who just stares at him and says, “Uh, hell yeah Cold is coming. We’re gonna need all the help we can get, and the gun can at least slow Zoom down.” So, Cold is in.   
It takes almost forty-eight hours from the break in the equation to a finalized plan. 

He’d invited Joe and Iris over for dinner to discuss it with them. Barry orders a ton of Chinese, and Joe and Iris arrive together. They’re sitting in the kitchen, piling their plates with rice and meat and veggies, when Iris says, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

She’s been here a few times, but they mostly see each other at the house they grew up in, at STAR Labs, or grabbing coffee or dinner. “Thanks. My uh, friend has helped out a little bit – just making the place seem more like mine than just another apartment. I think it makes him feel useful.” In actuality, he’d just come home one day to a hung art print in the living room, and the hallway had been painted blue. He has no idea why Len did these things, but he’s certain that asking is the wrong thing to do. 

Iris shakes her head, “You know, Barry, you two have been doing your little ‘friends with benefits’ thing for like – nine months. Are you sure it’s not serious?” she asks, as she sets her plate down on the coffee table in the living room. His kitchen table is plenty enough for him and Len to have breakfast but three is tight, and the living room is pretty comfy, even if it’s awkward in its own way. 

“Honestly, it’s not the same as it was when we first started, but it’s also not – it’s really complicated. And, Joe is going to hate it. So, I’m putting that off as long as possible.”

“You want to talk about it? I can keep a secret.”

Barry’s smile is genuine, and he’s hit with a rush of affection for his best friend, before he says, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’d be unfair. We’ll see what happens. I’m still waiting for it to all fall apart.”

Joe comes in then, with his plate, and a beer, and sets them down on the coffee table. “So. What’d you want to tell us?”

Barry shakes his head, “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”

Dinner goes well, they talk about Iris’ projects at CCPN and the blessed relief it is at the CCPD to be handling mostly normal human crimes, and not metahuman ones. The mu shu pork is excellent, and they are happily stuffed before the conversation returns to the topic at hand. 

“So,” Joe says, frowning, leaning forward on the armchair, elbows on his knees, leaning forward in his down to business posture that Barry recognizes from plenty of uncomfortable conversations. “What’s going on, that we had to have a nice dinner to butter us up?”

Barry squares his shoulders. “We’re doing a rescue mission – to save Jesse Wells. We did the math, we checked it like ten times, we’re doing the work on the speed cannon now. The trip is in three days.”

“That’s not safe. That’s Zoom’s turf, you don’t know what is on the other side of that breach. You could walk through, and he could tear you all to pieces,” Joe interjects, clearly upset, and Barry watches as the set of his shoulders shifts, his body tight, and disapproving

“I know there’s a young scared girl that’s been locked up for months at the hands of a speed-crazed madman. And, we’re going to try and get as much intel as possible from Cisco’s vibes. We also think, that unless Earth 2’s STAR Labs has fallen apart, it’s where we’ll come out, and should be safe.”

Joe frowns, “I should come –“

Barry is thrown for a loop by this assertion. “Why? We need you here. Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean metas won’t keep coming. Jay and Caitlin haven’t had much success with cures. Central City won’t have help. We can maybe get Jax and Professor Stein, but they’re training still.”

Joe is thinking hard, and Barry turns to Iris. She’s thinking it over, which he can see in the way she’s chewing her lip, and twisting her fingers. It doesn’t take her long, before she shrugs, and says quietly, “Then that’s what you have to do, Barry Allen. You go save her, and then you come home.”

Barry can’t hold in the smile. His friend continually amazes him, and he gives her a serious nod. “That’s absolutely the plan.”

“Yes,” Joe says, still clearly not sold on the idea. “Let’s hear the plan. The whole plan.”

“We go in, we get Jesse, and we get out. It’s a quick extraction, if at all possible. We have some tech that Cisco is developing to trap Zoom, as well. If necessary.”

“Oh?”

“It’s basically an isolated cold field that we can place and detonate. We need to slow him down – and as far as we know, he should be just as susceptible to cold as I am. Cisco amped up my suit – more thermathreads, and additional plating to keep me warm enough to move in it. That’s for later, really. I keep training, trying to get faster, and Caitlin has a few ideas about that that are still in their infancy. We started discussing it – and we just kept coming back to the idea that if I can’t get faster, maybe we can slow him down. If we can get him slow enough we can get the boot on him, keep him cold long enough to let the CCPD deal with him.”

“Wow," Joe says, and maybe he is impressed by Cisco's engineering skills, but it actually sounds like he's being a little snarky. But, Barry hopes, it's just perceived fears, coloring his understanding.

Barry shrugs, “It’s the plan so far anyway. The Earth 2 trip will hopefully be uneventful.”

“I feel like there’s something you’re not saying,” Joe says, after a minute. He’s not wrong, and Barry has known that he’s going to have to tell him that Cold is going with him – there’s no way to avoid it, he just desperately wishes there was a way. 

“Cold is coming with us.”

“No!” Joe shouts, and Barry sighs. He knew that this would be a hard sell – it’s part of why he’d wanted to keep Len out of the trip in the first place. “Absolutely not.”

Barry frowns, “We need the gun. And the muscle.”

“And you think he’s suddenly turned a new leaf? That suddenly he’s someone you can trust? He’s a criminal, a killer, and a liar. You remember what happened the last time you trusted him and his little gang to be your back up?”

Barry sighs, “I know exactly what happened. I know he can’t get back to Earth 1 without us. I know he wouldn’t leave Lisa here, and stay on Earth 2. I know that he’s stuck with the deal we made months ago.” He shrugs, "I think he's worth taking a chance on again. I saw who he was months ago, after Lewis, and he's not the same."

“Leopards don’t change their spots, Barry. He’s going to double cross you.”

Barry feels frozen. He can’t tell his foster father why he’s making this decision. He gets where Joe is coming from, but he also knows that he can trust Len to back his play. “He wants Zoom and his parade of metas out of Central City almost as much as we do. He owes me for saving Lisa. He owes me and Cisco for our testimony to the CCPD. And we need the gun, and we need the muscle. So he’s going.”

Joe growls in frustration, and stands up, “I just don’t understand. Why trust him at all? Why would you think you could?”

Barry walks the room for a moment, rubbing his face with his hands before he looks over at Joe. “I know you don’t understand. I know that you don’t trust him. I get that. Can you trust me?”

Joe stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and heads for the door. At the door he pauses, and says, hand on the knob, “I really want to trust you, son, but guys like that? They don’t change.” 

Barry waits for a few long moments after the door shuts to sigh heavily. Iris is still sitting across from him at the table, and he can tell she wants to say something. “What?”

She does the frown shrug combination and then sighs, “Barry, you had to know that wasn’t going to end well.”

“The only other option was just not telling him. That’s – just as bad a plan, isn’t it? I couldn’t do that. But – Cold isn’t going to betray us. There’s too much for him to lose. And Joe says he can’t change, but he’s already changed. He’s not perfect, he isn’t giving up being a thief, but he’s – working on it. I need the backup. I need the cold gun. It’s the best plan we’ve got.”

Iris shrugs. “I get it. An innocent girl is in trouble, and you’re going to run towards the danger. I get it. Then do what you have to do.”

Barry nods, and squeezes her hand across the coffee table, a small thanks. “I promise.”

* * * 

It’s been a quiet morning, getting ready for the trip through the breach. He’d changed into the suit because there was no sense in not wearing it, honestly. They could go through and Zoom is standing in front of them. It's unlikely but possible, and Len is firm in the camp that it would be better to be prepared, instead.

The parka is tossed over a console in the cortex, and he’s going through his backpack of supplies, while Cisco is busily packing a vest full of Twizzlers. He doesn’t get the kid’s priorities, but he can’t fault his dedication to his image. The thigh holster is quite possibly the best part of the whole suit. It’s comfortable and distributes the not inconsiderable weight of the gun. He’s laid out the supplies he’s been assigned – power bars, basic first aid supplies, backup batteries for the comms, paper, two pencils, lock picks, pliers, wire, rope, a flashlight, two knives, a bolt cutter that sticks out of the bag weirdly, and an emergency blanket. He’s already tossed a strip of condoms and some packets of lube into one of the pockets, just in case. Cisco and Wells will have their own collection of tools and supplies. Barry won’t have a bag, he’s going to be carrying them through the cannon, instead. 

Cisco looks up, that’s all the warning that he gets before Joe West speed walks into the cortex. He takes in the scene in front of him in a cursory glance, casing the room – just like Len would, just like any other police officer would, before throwing him a glare and turning on Cisco. 

“You made this lowlife a suit?”

Cisco looks cowed for a moment before he shrugged, “Can’t let him freeze to death. It’s built to protect him from the cold. And Zoom.”

“Did you think about what else it might do? He might take it with him when this is over – it’ll protect him from leaving trace evidence? Did you bulletproof it?”

Cisco frowns, “Somewhat? Even Barry’s suit isn’t bulletproof.”

Joe growls, “Get out, Cisco. I want to talk to Snart alone.”

Cisco gives Len an apologetic look before high tailing it towards the lab that Harry has long since taken up residence in. 

Len leans casually against the desk, gun in full display, and crosses his legs at the ankle. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“Get the hell out of here for a start.”

“I think you’ll find that’s a bad idea. You might not want to understand, and you have every right to not trust me, but you’re not thinking with your head. I hear that’s a thing that decent parents do, I wouldn’t know. But, it’s a bad plan.” It's probably an asshole move to make him feel stupid, but it is stupid. 

“Oh, and you think taking a person who can’t be trusted on a dangerous journey to a parallel world is a great plan?”

“I think taking the right man for the job, is the right plan. I’ve taken assholes on jobs. Don’t you worry Detective, everyone comes home if I have anything to say about it.”

“As if you care.”

“Detective, I don’t care enough to explain myself to you, and certainly not if you're not listening. I've had enough of that for a lifetime. Maybe Cisco can explain it. Tell The Flash to find me when I’m ready,” he says starting for the door. He hates cops, and West is no exception to the rule. They see in black and white, and that offends him to his very essence. No one is all good or all bad, and failure to think otherwise is just – lazy. 

But West grabs his arm on his way past, and Len fights to not react. He’d spent too many years of his childhood being grabbed and hauled around by his arm until his father been sent away to Iron Heights before he and Lisa had escaped to Coast City. So, the snarl that escapes him isn’t entirely conscious, “Don’t touch me.”

“Or what?” Joe demands to know, glaring. 

Len frowns, “I was assured you were a better man than that. Multiple times. Now take your hand off my arm before I do it for you. I’m attempting to be civil, despite your attitude.”

Joe glares harder, and hasn’t released is arm yet, though he’s certain he was thinking about it when the grip shifted, just as Barry sped into the room in his suit. 

The cowl is down in a picosecond, and he’s clearly pissed. “What’s going on here?” Barry demands.

Len is 100 percent done, and he just yanks his arm out of West’s grip. “Detective West was expressing his opinion on my participation in your plan.”

“Again?” Barry turns on his heel and frowns. “We, collectively, have been planning this for over a month. Joe, you’ve made your opinion perfectly clear. But, the only thing that’s going to happen that’s going to happen if we don’t do this, is delays. We’d have to find someone else to do the job, and I don’t know who that would be. Are you trained to carry and fire a twenty-pound gun that radiates cold? Has Cisco developed you a suit that works to counteract the cold field we might need to deploy? What plan do you have that we can roll out on short notice? Because Jesse is running out of time.”

“What do I tell your father when you don’t come home?”

Len could see the words impact Barry, almost physically, but is certain that it’s not his place to step in here. But Barry just takes a deep breath and looks over at him for a long second before speaking again. “I’m not explaining myself again. And we will come home.”

“You can’t know that, Barry.”

And Barry huffs a breath in frustration, and Len is tempted to pull the damned gun, just to stop the argument, but that’s when Iris glides into the cortex and gives Joe a nod. Barry misses it, but Len does not. “Detective, it’s time to go. We don’t have time for this anymore. This conversation is decided, and it is over.”

Joe storms out, but not before glaring directly at him, and snapping, “I disagree.” 

Iris doesn't follow him out, she lingers around the computer desk. Barry lets out a shaky breath, and then – leans into him, his back to his friend. Len frowns, and wraps an arm around Barry, gently. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll be back before he knows it, and he can go back to hating me.”

Iris’ eyes are wide and filled with confusion and there are the first lights of understanding in her eyes, even as she stares at them. Len runs a hand down Barry’s back, clad in the thick tripolymer fabric, and back to his shoulders, letting an ungloved hand cradle the back of his neck. He meets her eyes, and she meets his, and it’s not understanding that flows between them but it is – an acknowledgment. That somehow this is necessary, even if she doesn’t know the extent or the details. 

Which is when Henry Allen walks in. “Barry?” and there’s that concern that Len’s heard in Doc Allen’s voice a few times. “Is everything okay?’

Barry looks up, and sees his father, and Len can feel his lover's body stiffen. Barry’s eyes slide shut, and at first he thinks Barry is going to pull away, to put space between them, and try and pretend that it was just a moment, but he doesn’t. He opens his eyes, and sighs heavily, before turning to glare at Iris, and his body loosens a fraction. Len gives Barry’s elbow a squeeze and turns to Henry with a hesitant smile. 

He sees the moment that Henry realizes who is standing in front of him, holding his son. Emotions flicker across his face the way they always have, at the sight of two scrappy battered kids, or a young cocky little shit leaning on the bars of his cell, that never changes, and it's fascinating to see it now – when he sees Barry do the same thing from time to time. His face flashes through confusion, anger, and then what looks like an ‘a-ha!’ moment, and he sighs, “Len. You want to explain to me what’s going on here?”

Asking Len is a bold move in this instance, letting their acquaintanceship out of the bag immediately, but that’s probably an Allen thing. Barry’s rubbish at keeping things a secret most of the time as well. “Your son and his team have a plan. Joe doesn’t trust me to back Barry up. Barry does. Which is why you were – called in, I presume.”

Henry pauses, for a few solid moments, and then, in way that reminds him of the times he was ushered into the back of his clinic for stitches, he says in the same tone, “We are going over the plan first, and then you and I will talk about you sleeping with my son.”

Len wants to laugh because clearly, it wasn’t him that gave that away, though he hadn’t seen it on Barry’s face, too focused on Henry’s sudden appearance. He can’t deny him the right to grill him, give him a stern fatherly talking to, or try and scare him off – it is, in truth, perfectly reasonable, he knows. “He started it,” he says, unable to resist, because he’s been exposed but damned if he’s not dragging Barry under the metaphorical bus with him. This doesn’t seem too shocking to Henry, though he’d heard Iris’ gasp clear as day. He just wants to get this goddamned show on the road. “CISCO!” he shouts, knowing that he’s not so far as to be out of shouting distance, “Get your ass in here!”

The plan is discussed ad nauseum, but Henry agrees it has its shaky points, but it’s a quality plan, with quality people to make it happen, and he gives his blessing. Iris has stuck around, made a few small suggestions, but she’s clearly – agitated. He expects that while he and Henry will have an awkward conversation, Barry and Iris will have a throwdown. 

They end up at Saints, with Vi grinning like a fucking loon, and Henry pleasantly surprised by the quality of the beer, and the array of food that mysteriously appeared on their table. “So.”

“There’s no excuse. I mean, to be honest, I hadn’t connected you at first," Len admits, "But, I also didn’t do anything when I did.”

Henry sets his beer on the table and holds a hand up and out to forestall any further explanations. “I know my son, Len. I know that look on his face. I know how he feels about you. I don’t need excuses - what I don’t know is how you feel about him.”

Len picks up his glass and signals for Vi. “This conversation needs scotch. Three fingers, with ice.”

Vi brings his drink back, and gives Henry a broad wink, and a flounce, which is honestly embarrassing, and he’s going to tease her about it forever. Not that Henry isn’t a handsome man. He takes a sizable swallow and sighs. “I haven’t – told any of this to Barry. So, I’d appreciate it if it stayed between the two of us.” At Henry’s nod of agreement, Len leans back in the booth. “I don’t even know how to answer. You know – this was just supposed to be an arrangement. A safe outlet – and, for a while it was – and then it wasn’t.”

Len takes a sip of scotch, setting the glass back down on the tabletop, and tracing his finger through the condensation left on the wood where it hadn’t lined up perfectly. “I’m not insane or stupid enough to think that what we have can – last. But, I know I’m not ready to lose him. And I won’t let him go face that monster without backup. I won’t rely on the theoretical backup. I trust Cisco’s work. We tested it. I don’t trust Harry, and I don’t trust Jay. Someone has to watch Snow, and I want West to do it, but he can’t see past my rap sheet-"

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that Allen’s can be stubborn assholes when we put our minds to it," Henry says with a chuckle "So, let me deal with Joe. I know better than to push Barry, and I suspect you do as well. So, I’m going to say this and then let it go. You need to sort yourselves out – sooner rather than later. You both already know how you feel, you just don’t want to deal with it. But you are going to. Understood?”

Len has nothing to say, and frankly, it might be a relief to know where he stands, to be cut loose if that’s how it’s going to go anyway. He just nods, and Henry leans back in his chair. “Excellent. Now, we shouldn’t let the barmaid’s hard work go to waste. Help me with the wings, and what is this dip that goes with the pretzels?”

Len shakes his head, leaning against the table, and picking up a celery stick, as Henry digs in -- like father like son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied, but next chapter they're definitely on their way. (Three paragraphs into Chapter 13, you're on Earth 2. Promise!)
> 
> And - GASP Iris knows! I want to write that argument, but if I do I'll throw it up on my tumblr, so feel free to follow me if you want, but I'll also link it in the next chapter update when I do post it. 
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to, once again, say thank you to everyone that's left comments and kudos. It was great to see kudos in my inbox even when I wasn't writing, but knowing that as much as I didn't have the time to write, people still liked what I had written. So - all the thanks to you all, straight from my heart. Flash fandom is so amazing!! 
> 
> And lastly once again, as a piece of advice, if you can, hire a wedding planner. :p 
> 
> <3


	13. Note to the Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author apologizes

I've gotten a few comments asking about the status of this story. So, I just wanted to put out a statement. 

I have not given up on this story. 

I am however struggling very hard. Not long after the last post went up, my beloved cat Percy passed away. He used to sit with me, and warm up against my computer vents, and keep me company while I wrote. 

Right now I am having a hard to going back to that story without him.

I keep attempting to go back and begin again, and it doesn't feel right. 

But the story is plotted, it's partially written, but it isn't.. Right. 

I am participating in NanoWriMo this year, and I am hopeful that this will help push me out of this funk I am in. 

Hang in there with me. I will get back to you. I promise.


End file.
